MARY    MANN 


JUANITA 


A   ROMANCE   OF  REAL   LIFE  IN  CUBA 
FIFTY    YEARS  AGO 


BY   MARY    MANN 


BOSTON 
D  LOTHROP  COMPANY 

FRANKLIN   AND    HAWLEY   STREETS 


COPYRIGHT,  1887,  BY 
D.    LOTHROP    COMPANY. 


ELECTROTYPED 
BY  C.  J.  PETERS  &  Sox.  BOSTON. 


BERWICK    4    SMITH,    PRINTERS,    BOSTON. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER 
I. 

II. 
III. 

IV. 

V. 

VI. 

VII. 

VIII. 

IX. 

X. 

XI. 

XII. 

XIII. 

XIV. 

XV. 

XVI. 

XVII. 

XVIII. 

XIX. 

XX. 

XXI. 

XXII. 


PAGE 

AFRICA 7 

HAVANA 14 

THE  SALE 36 

LA  CONSOLACION   .  >i 


THE  DOGS 79 

THE  MARCHIONESS 94 

THE  DINNER 112 

THE  DRIVE 130 

JUANITA 150 

CAMILLA 161 

THE  CHICKEN-HOUSE 169 

THE  AMERICANS 183 

FANCHON 196 

THE  XE\V  YEAR'S  I!ALL 204 

CoCK-FlGHTINC. 2l8 

THE  CACTUS. — THE  SLEEVE  OK  WIND      .     .     .  222 

PEDRO  AND  DOLORES 235 

DONA  JOSEEA 245 

LA  MODESTIA 251 

THE  TURTLE-DOVES 266 

PARTED  FAMILIES 288 

Dox  ANDRES 311 

5 


2072230 


O  CONTEXTS. 

XXIII.  TULITA 323 

XXIV.  THE  FLIGHT 351 

XXV.  SEWING 355 

XXVI.  DECEPTION 369 

XXVII.  CONSEQUENCES 376 

XXVIII.  REPENTANCE 383 

XXIX.  HOMEWARD  IJOUND 392 

XXX.  DISSIPATION 402 

XXXI.  THE  RETURN 411 

XXXII.  CUBA 423 


JUANITA: 

A  ROMANCE   OF  REAL   LIFE    IN   CUBA  FIFTY 
YEARS  AGO. 


CHAPTER    I. 

AFRICA. 

IN  a  beautiful  valley  on  the  border  of  a  river, 
about  fifty  miles  from  the  western  coast  of  Africa, 
a  party  of  natives  had  assembled  under  the  shade 
of  a  copse  of  trees  to  celebrate  a  rustic  wedding. 
The  valley  was  nearly  closed  in  by  a  circle  of  low 
hills.  From  one  of  these  summits  a  stream  dashed 
down  and  wound  its  way  like  a  silver  serpent,  glis 
tening  in  the  sun's  rays,  through  meadows,  and  by 
bosquets  of  plumed  bamboos  and  heavily  laden 
mango-trees.  The  feathery,  acacia-like  foliage  of 
a  clump  of  tamarind-trees  shaded  the  group  of 
figures  as  they  reclined  on  the  bank  of  the  stream, 
waiting  for  the  decline  of  the  burning  tropical  sun 
before  they  consummated  their  simple  ceremony^ 
which  was  to  be  followed  by  a  festive  dance,  for, 
like  other  savage  nations,  the  Africans  consecrate 
all  national  and  social  observances  by  the  dance. 

War  and  rapine  had  never  invaded  this  little 
valley  of  peace.  It  was  separated  from  any  other 

7 


8  AFRICA. 

tribe  by  the  hills  that  surrounded  it,  and  the  wants 
of  its  unsophisticated  inhabitants  were  amply  sup 
plied  by  the  productions  of  nature  around  them. 

The  plantain,  the  fig  banana,  the  orange,  and  the 
bread-fruit  tree,  the  mameas  or  tree-melons,  the 
yam,  and  innumerable  other  fruits  and  vegetables  ; 
the  delicate  fish  of  the  rushing  stream,  that  shot 
through  the  valley  with  the  first  impulse  from  the 
hills  that  had  given  it  birth  ;  the  light  game  found 
in  the  woods,  and  the  birds  that  made  the  air  alive 
with  music,  furnished  them  with  all  the  necessaries 
of  life.  Two  varieties  of  dwellings  stood  in  the 
valley  :  light  bamboo  structures,  interlaced  with 
cocoa-leaves  ;  and  more  solid  structures,  formed  of 
mud  and  pebbles,  which  the  sun  soon  baked,  and 
which  were  designed  for  shelter  in  the  rainy  sea 
son.  In  these,  abundant  stores  were  laid  by  for 
future  use. 

The  Ayetans,  for  so  we  will  call  them,  from  the 
name  of  their  river,  Ayete,  had  heard  stories  of 
invading  white  men  who  stole  their  dark  breth 
ren  from  their  homes  and  bore  them  away  on  the 
backs  of  great  birds,  with  snowy  wings  ;  and,  not 
a  great  many  years  before  the  time  of  our  story, 
some  young  men,  more  enterprising  than  the  rest, 
had  ventured  beyond  the  hills,  and  were  never 
heard  of  again.  A  narrow  opening,  which  the  kid 
nappers  had  never  espied,  wound  into  the  valley 
between  two  hills,  and  the  native  curiosity  of  man 
had  led  them  to  explore  it.  But  the  Ayetans  had 


AFRICA.  g 

by  their  seclusion  escaped  the  common  fate  of  the 
tribes  of  western  Africa  thus  far. 

On  this  day,  with  the  native  taste  which  charac 
terizes  the  African,  they  had  chosen  the  prettiest 
grove  in  their  lovely  valley  to  celebrate  the  nup 
tials  of  their  youthful  chief  with  a  maiden  he  had 
chosen  from  the  tribe.  He  was  a  tall  and  well 
formed  youth,  and  she  was  a  lithe  and  bright-eyed 
maiden.  Labor  had  not  stunted  their  growth ; 
but  fishing,  hunting,  and  chasing  the  antelope, 
had  developed  their  limbs  in  graceful  proportions, 
and  in  their  simple  way  they  were  as  happy  as 
savages  could  be  —  gentle  specimens  of  savage 
nature.  The  older  members  of  the  party  were 
resting  in  the  shade ;  the  younger  girls  and  lads 
were  chasing  the  innumerable  butterflies  of  all 
hues  and  sizes,  and  pulling  off  their  brilliant 
wings  by  way  of  preparing  the  more  solid  parts 
of  these  "  flying  jewels  "  for  what  was  to  be  the 
wedding  cake,  —  a  favorite  food  of  the  Africans, 
which  was  to  be  made  with  their  bodies  and  with 
honey  from  the  wild  bees'  nests,  and  cooked  over 
embers  that  were  burning  on  a  little  reach  of 
pebbly  beach  by  the  river.  Groups  of  little  chil 
dren  were  paddling  in  the  edges  of  the  stream  or 
rolling  upon  the  green  sward. 

A  distant  shout  and  the  noise  of  fire-arms  sud 
denly  startled  them  all  from  their  repose  and 
amusements,  and  in  a  few  moments,  as  they  stood 
huddled  together,  the  dreaded  white  men,  of  whom 


10  AFRICA. 

they  had  heard,  followed,  alas,  by  a  savage  troop 
of  howling  negroes,  burst  into  their  midst.  Then, 
like  frightened  deer,  they  fled.  But  it  was  in  vain. 
Their  enemies  carried  the  lightning  and  the 
thunderbolt  in  their  hands.  It  was  the  first  sound 
of  fire-arms  that  had  ever  assailed  the  ears  of  the 
natives.  It  proved  far  more  terrific  than  their 
imaginations  had  pictured  it.  At  every  flash  of 
that  concentrated  lightning,  and  at  every  peal 
of  that  mimic  thunder,  their  companions  fell  dead 
to  the  ground.  The  rest  turned  and  knelt  sup 
pliant  to  these  evil  gods  ;  but  they  were  bound 
hand  and  foot,  and  borne  away  on  the  backs  of 
these  black  and  white  demons  —  for  their  own 
countrymen  were  there  transformed  into  fiends  by 
the  cruelties  and  bribery  of  the  white  men. 

Only  a  few  old  people  and  very  young  children 
were  left  in  the  valley,  for  such  do  not  survive  the 
horrors  of  the  middle  passage. 

On  this  festal  day,  many  of  the  natives  were 
ornamented  with  chains  and  bracelets  of  the  soft 
gold  which  was  found  in  the  rivers  and  in  the 
sides  of  the  hills,  and  which  they  knew  the  art  of 
moulding  into  these  decorations.  These  did  not 
escape  the  eyes  of  the  kidnappers,  who  commis 
sioned  a  few  of  their  number  to  sack  the  rude 
habitations  and  store-houses  of  the  negroes  for 
more  booty  of  a  similar  kind.  But  the  natives  had 
hoarded  little  gold.  It  was  only  preferred  in 
their  eyes  to  the  flowery  chain  because  more 


AFRICA.  t  j 

glittering  and  more  permanent.  They  knew  no 
other  value  for  it.  Its  discovery,  however,  doomed 
the  beautiful  valley  to  desolation  and  still  farther 
carnage,  for  other  parties  soon  came  to  inquire  for 
the  locality  of  the  gold,  pitilessly  massacred  all 
the  inhabitants  that  were  left,  fed  upon  their 
stores,  and  dug  into  their  hill-sides  till  they  had 
exhausted  the  supply  of  the  treasure  for  whose 
possession  they  had  become  the  fiends  they 
were. 

When  the  kidnappers  were  weary  of  their  bur 
dens,  and  knew  their  prisoners  were  too  much  ex 
hausted  by  the  torment  of  their  bonds  to  be  able 
to  make  any  resistance,  they  unbound  their  limbs, 
and,  tying  them  together,  led  them  by  the  thongs 
a  weary  march  to  a  barracoon  near  the  coast. 
There  they  were  thrust  into  pits,  and  earth  was 
shovelled  in  around  them  till  it  reached  the  chin, 
and  thus  they  were  left  till  they  could  be  safely 
embarked.  Enough  food  was  given  them  to  sus 
tain  life,  and  this  they  were  made  to  eat  whether 
they  wished  to  do  it  or  not.  A  guard  was  sta 
tioned  over  them  to  prevent  any  sound  from 
issuing  from  their  mouths,  for  these  were  deeds  of 
darkness,  that  must  not  be  exposed.  Some  com 
passionate  ear  might  hear  and  betray,  for  English 
vessels  were  occasionally  nearing  the  coast  for 
this  very  purpose.  Straw  and  other  rubbish  was 
piled  up  in  the  corners  of  the  barracoon,  ready  to 
be  scattered  over  the  heads  of  these  poor  victims 


1 2  AFRICA. 

if  any  symptoms  of  approaching  danger  were 
scented  in  the  air. 

One  wretched  night  and  long  day  passed  before 
the  negroes  were  released  from  their  agonizing 
positions.  They  were  then  huddled,  in  the  dead 
of  night,  between  the  decks  of  a  vessel,  where  they 
were  laid  side  by  side.  There  they  were  left  to 
move  about  what  little  they  could,  but  if  they 
endeavored  to  thrust  their  heads  out  of  the  loop 
holes  for  a  fresh  breath  of  air,  they  were  beaten 
back  from  without,  such  was  the  kidnapper's  fear 
of  capture.  Occasionally,  when  out  at  sea,  a  few 
at  a  time  were  allowed  to  come  upon  deck. 
Every  day  their  dead  were  drawn  out  and  thrown 
into  the  sea,  and  thus  they  crossed  the  ocean  to 
the  Spanish  islands. 

We  will  not  dwell  upon  the  countless  sufferings, 
the  impotent  ravings  of  the  middle  passage.  From 
this  earthly  hell  they  were  glad  to  be  set  on  any 
shore,  to  breathe  again  the  sweet  breath  of  Hea 
ven,  to  look  at  one  another  by  the  sun's  light,  to 
count  over  the  ranks  of  kindred  and  friends  to  see 
who  were  left.  All  the  sins  of  selfishness  that 
had  developed  themselves  in  the  hours  of  suffering 
were  forgotten  and  forgiven.  Hatred  was  felt 
now  for  the  oppressor  only,  and  they  still  had  the 
privilege  of  uttering  their  common  sentiments  to 
each  other  without  being  comprehended  by  their 
tyrants.  Every  natural  sign  of  hostility  must  be 
suppressed,  but  the  burning  word  of  their  native 


AFRICA.  1 3 

dialect  still  remained  to  them,  and  this  gift  of 
untrammelled  speech  was  the  only  earthly  boon 
they  now  possessed.  They  no  longer  owned 
themselves.  Who  could  tell  how  long  their 
simple  souls  would  be  their  own?  —  for  it  is  not 
probable  that  they  ever  consciously  realized  the 
possession,  or  would  be  likely  to  retain  it,  amid 
the  temptations  and  degradations  of  bondage. 

Hitherto  they  had  worshipped  an  unknown  God 
as  the  birds  do,  by  song  and  dance,  and  by  happi 
ness  —  but  had  not  their  God  forsaken  them  ? 


CHAPTER    II. 

HAVANA, 

IT  was  a  lovely  clay,  of  golden  sunshine  and 
balmy  air,  in  the  Island  City. 

On  the  veranda  of  a  spacious  court-yard,  en 
closed  on  all  sides  by  the  mansion  of  Don  Miguel 
Arbrides,  sat  some  ladies,  earnestly  engaged  in 
conversation. 

The  setting  sun  was  shining  upon  a  mass  of 
brilliant  clouds  that  rose  to  the  zenith,  and  their 
reflection  threw  a  rosy  tint  upon  the  marble 
walls  of  the  mansion  and  the  shrubbery  within  the 
court,  while  a  sparkling  fountain  threw  up  its 
spray  from  a  clear  basin  in  the  centre,  giving 
one  a  sense  of  coolness  that  was  most  refreshing 
after  the  heats  of  a  tropical  day. 

Below  the  veranda,  or  piazza,  which  ran  all 
round  the  building,  were  the  domestic  offices. 
They  were  unusually  spacious  for  a  city,  for  Don 
Miguel  was  a  successful  slaver,  and,  in  addition  to 
his  household  dependents,  often  had  a  supply  of 
slaves  in  preparation  for  the  market.  He  had  just 
returned  from  a  profitable  voyage,  and  the  numer- 


HA  VANA.  j  5 

ous  people  seen  below  were  some  of  the  fruits. 
He  owned  extensive  slave-pens  in  the  country, 
within  fifty  miles  of  the  city ;  and  from  these 
depositories  small  gangs  of  bozals,  as  the  newly 
arrived  negroes  were  called,  were  from  time  to 
time  brought  into  the  city  by  night,  and  placed  in 
this  domestic  slave-pen,  where  they  were  attended 
by  a  skilful  physician,  who  prescribed  for  the 
maladies  incurred  on  the  voyage ;  and  when  such 
a  gang  was  pronounced  by  him  in  good  condition, 
it  was  sent  to  the  slave  market  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  city,  and  few  slaves  there  sold  brought  such 
good  prices.  Formerly  slave-pens  were  within 
the  city  walls,  where  medical  men  attended  regu 
larly,  but  since  the  treaty  of  1817  with  England, 
which  made  all  slaves  contraband  who  were 
brought  to  the  island,  it  was  safer  to  land 
them  upon  some  unfrequented  part  of  the  coast. 
Thence,  so  many  as  were  not  disabled  were 
marched,  chained  together,  to  such  plantations  as 
required  recruits  and  had  engaged  them  beforehand, 
and  even  to  the  villages  of  the  interior  where  they 
were  sold,  for  no  troublesome  English  commis 
sioner  resided  in  the  country,  and  the  one  in  the 
city  took  no  pains  to  inform  himself  of  disobedi 
ence  to  the  treaty,  knowing  that  the  Captain 
General  received  so  much  a  head  from  the  slaves, 
and  was  therefore  specially  blind  and  deaf  upon 
that  subject,  which  made  his  commission  practi 
cally  abortive.  The  usual  form  through  which  he 


!6  HAVANA. 

passed  when  he  did  confiscate  a  cargo,  was  to 
throw  the  captain  into  prison,  from  which,  after  a 
few  months,  he  would  be  sent  into  the  country  by 
a  physician,  on  a  plea  of  ill  health  :  and,  very  pos 
sibly,  a  week  or  two  later  the  commissioner  would 
meet  him  in  the  street,  just  ready  to  re-embark  in 
the  employ  of  some  other  slaver,  like  Don  Miguel 
Arbrides,  who  was* wealthy  enough  to  pay  the  fine 
and  all  collateral  expenses.  It  was  not  often  that 
a  wealthy  slaver  commanded  his  own  vessel,  but 
Don  Miguel,  though  a  pleasant  gentleman  at  home, 
had  practical  proclivities,  and  liked  the  excitement 
of  the  chase  ;  and  even  looked  forward  to  taking 
his  own  son  with  him  when  he  should  be  of  suit 
able  age.  But  of  this  anon.  Less  popular  or  less 
wealthy  men  would  not  have  brought  such  slaves 
into  their  own  places  of  residence  within  the  city, 
for  fear  of  inconvenient  consequences  ;  but  who 
wished  to  give  offence  to  such  a  man  by  saying 
that  those  were  emancipados,  and  had  a  right  to 
their  freedom  ?  Not  the  people  who  visited  his 
splendid  mansion  and  partook  of  his  lavish  hospi 
talities !  In  such  communities  it  is  not  considered 
good  manners  to  complain  of  one's  neighbors  and 
acquaintances.  The  enslaving  of  fellow-men  who 
are  defenceless  is  a  trifle  in  comparison. 

As  far  as  practicable,  such  slaves  were  sold  into 
the  country,  for  in  the  city  they  might  in  time  learn 
of  their  rights  from  the  free  negroes,  of  which  Ha 
vana  contains  some  forty  thousand,  and  every  addi- 


HAVANA.  ij 

tion  adds  to  the  constantly  impending  'fear  of 
insurrection. 

In  one  corner  of  the  court-yard,  a  knot  of  people, 
who,  apparently,  had  no  part  in  the  domestic  ser 
vice,  were  gathered  together  and  earnestly  engaged 
in  conversation  in  a  language  which  no  one  else 
could  understand.  The  slaves  of  the  household 
occasionally  mingled  with  them,  but  evidently 
could  not  communicate  with  them.  A  beautiful 
little  boy,  son  of  Don  Miguel,  might  be  seen 
threading  his  way  amongst  them,  and  giving  them 
oranges  and  little  articles  of  confectionery. 

Tulita,  the  dark-browed  Spanish  maiden,  was 
the  very  embodiment  of  loveliness  and  goodness. 
No  tenderer  heart  ever  beat  than  hers  for  her 
friends,  for  her  pet  dog,  her  birds,  for  the  poor 
padre  who  begged  at  the  door,  for  the  sick  negro 
who  was  consigned  to  the  domestic  hospital  of 
her  father ;  but  she  had  never  questioned  the  pro 
priety  of  his  seeking  slaves  on  the  African  coast, 
or  selling  them  at  home.  Her  father  was  a  kind 
and  tender  father,  though  his  wealth  was  acquired 
by  the  theft  and  sale  of  his  fellow-beings.  Indeed, 
it  was  a  jubilee  all  through  the  family  circle,  which 
was  large  and  well-to-do,  when  Don  Miguel  re 
turned  from  his  voyages,  for  his  return  was  the 
signal  for  many  a  festivity,  which  he  specially 
enjoyed  and  liberally  promoted  ;  and  he  was 
always  well  furnished  with  the  soft  golden  chains 
and  trinkets  made  on  the  coast,  which  he  distrib- 


1 8  HAVANA. 

uted  among  his  friends.  He  did  not  own  any 
plantations,  for  his  occupation  was  on  the  high 
seas  ;  but  there  were  many  on  which  he  was  a 
welcome  guest  ;  and  when  he  was  at  home  in 
\vinter,  the  season  for  visiting,  Tulita  passed  brill 
iant  and  joyful  days  in  the  country. 

Miss  Wentworth  had  gone  to  visit  a  friend  in 
Cuba  with  the  northern  feeling  upon  the  subject 
of  slavery.  At  that  time,  it  might  be  said  to  be 
rather  a  negative  feeling.  It  was  before  the 
agitation  of  the  question  of  human  rights  had 
stirred  the  foundations  of  society.  The  contro 
versy  between  abolitionists  and  colonizationists 
had  just  begun.  She  knew  that  she  was  going  to 
a  land  of  slavery,  but  she  had  no  expectation  of 
being  plunged  into  the  midst  of  it.  In  her  child 
hood  she  had  heard  a  respectable  old  negress,  who 
lived  in  the  neighborhood  of  her  mother's  house, 
tell  the  story  of  the  abolition  of  slavery  in  Massa 
chusetts,  when  she  had  emerged  from  a  mild  form 
of  that  institution  into  the  enjoyment  of  perfect 
freedom  and  ownership  of  self,  and  she  told  it  elo 
quently  but  without  entering  into  the  details  of 
cruelty  and  injustice.  A  respectable  community 
of  colored  people  resided  in  the  town,  and  Miss 
Wentworth  had  seen  them,  arrayed  in  their  best  at 
tire,  congregate  together  on  the  anniversary  of  the 
day  of  emancipation,  which  they  celebrated  with 
dances,  sometimes  with  revels,  which  were  laughed 
at  but  not  sympathized  with.  She  had  known 


HAVAATA.  ig 

excellent  persons  of  color  in  domestic  service. 
She  had  helped  to  teach  their  children  to  read, 
and  had  gathered  them  in  the  Sunday-school.  She 
knew  that  their  mothers  were  afraid  to  trust  them 
out  after  dark,  for  fear  of  the  kidnapper ;  and 
this  had  been  her  most  painful  knowledge,  for 
she  knew  slavery  was  not  far  off,  and  that  that 
was  a  real  danger.  She  knew  the  colored  people 
were  not  allowed  to  ride  in  public  conveyances,  and 
had  indignantly  sympathized  with  her  own  nurse, 
who  was  obliged  to  pay  largely  for  being  carried 
into  the  country,  in  a  private  conveyance,  to 
see  her  old  mother.  She  had  shuddered  over  oc 
casional  accounts  of  the  horrors  of  the  middle 
passage,  but  her  mother  had  tenderly  guarded  her 
children  from  the  knowledge  of  extreme  cruelties, 
and  her  impression  was  that  they  were  excep 
tional.  Indeed,  slavery  was  a  name  rather  than  a 
reality  to  her.  The  pecuniary  interest  northern 
people  had  in  southern  plantations  —  often  the 
ownership  of  them — made  it  invidious  to  dwell 
upon  the  subject,  and  sealed  the  eyes  of  hu 
manity,  down  to  the  time  when  Garrison  boldly 
attacked  the  monster  crime.  Even  long  after 
that,  it  was  considered  not  genteel  to  say 
too  much  about  it,  —  all  which  condition  of 
things  threw  dust  in  the  eyes  of  society.  Col 
onization  had  excited  some  interest  in  the  be 
nevolent,  but  the  general  voice  condemned  any 
suggestion  of  immediate  measures  of  emanci 


2Q  HA  VANA. 

pation,  or  relief  for  the  oppressed.  There  was 
no  faith  in  human  nature  large  enough  to  com 
pass  the  idea  that  emancipation  from  bondage 
would  call  forth  any  but  the  baser  passions  of 
revenge  and  indiscriminate  destruction.  It  yet 
remained  to  be  seen  that  the  long  enslaved  would 
receive  freedom  on  their  bended  knees,  and  with 
songs  of  thanksgiving.  It  was  supposed  that,  like 
the  Anglo-Saxon  race  which  had  enslaved  them, 
they  would  turn  and  rend  their  oppressors.  That 
they  can  feel  gratitude  and  affection  for  kind 
ness  among  their  oppressors  when  in  bondage, 
did  not  suggest  the  inference  that  they  would 
be  much  better,  instead  of  worse,  for  the  boon 
of  liberty. 

A  few  days'  residence  in  a  slave-country  had 
rudely  waked  Miss  Wentworth  from  her  compar 
ative  insensibility  to  the  fact  of  slavery.  She 
now  saw  the  degradation  and  helplessness  of  a 
class  of  men  and  women  whom  she  had  hitherto 
looked  upon  practically  as  almost  fabulous.  She 
learned  with  a  shudder  that  she  was  residing  in  a 
house  of  a  slave-catcher,  —  a  class  of  men  whom 
she  had  previously  thought  of  as  the  embodiment 
of  all  that  is  brutal  and  demoniac  in  human 
nature,  but  one  who  was,  in  fact,  respected  in 
society,  outwardly  like  his  fellow-men,  and  pos 
sessing  many  of  the  qualities  of  a  man  and  a  gen 
tleman.  She  had  accidentally  learned  that  day 
that  the  slaves  below  were  about  to  be  sold  at 


HAVANA.  21 

auction,  and  she  had  inquired,  with  startling 
earnestness,  whence  they  came  and  whither  they 
were  to  be  sent. 

Tulita,  with  all  simplicity,  had  revealed  all  the 
arcana,  which  those  more  conversant  with  non- 
slave-holding  communities  would  have  concealed. 
The  wife  of  Don  Miguel  had  visited  American 
cities  before  her  marriage,  and  had  some  glimpses 
of  the  state  of  feeling  on  the  subject ;  but  courtesy 
to  a  guest,  and  that  guest  a  young  lady,  had  pre 
vented  her  feelings  from  being  hurt,  or  even 

O  O  ' 

roused  by  it.  She  was  now  for  the  first  time,  as 
a  mother,  made  aware  of  what  the  feeling  might 
be  ;  for  her  husband  had  already  intimated  that 
he  should  take  his  son  with  him,  when  a  little 
older,  to  initiate  him  into  the  business.  Her 
maternal  instinct  made  her  sympathize  with  Miss 
Wentworth's  ill  concealed  disgust  and  indignation, 
but  she  wisely  concealed  it,  in  the  fear  of  her  hus 
band's  displeasure.  Nothing  makes  a  slave-holder 
so  angry  as  any  question  of  his  rights,  as  he  calls 
them. 

"Did  your  father  go  for  them  himself?"  asked 
Miss  Went  worth,  her  blood  boiling  within  her  at 
the  thought  of  the  courtesies  she  had  received  at 
his  hands. 

"  Ah,  yes,  indeed  !  "  said  Tulita,  "and  they  will 
be  so  much  better  off  now.  They  were  all  ill  when 
they  came,  but  they  arc  all  well  now." 

"  Poor  creatures  !  "  exclaimed  Miss  Wentworth  ; 


22  HA  VAX  A. 

"  they  were  brought  forcibly  away  from  their 
homes,  I  suppose." 

"  Yes,  but  papa  says  they  are  taken  from  the 
most  cruel  slavery  on  the  coast  and  brought  here  to 
a  Christian  land.  They  were  all  baptized  a  few  days 
ago,  and  now  can  have  Christian  burial  when  they 
die,"  and  Tulita  crossed  herself  devoutly. 

"  A  Christian  land ! "  exclaimed  Miss  Went- 
worth,  with  an  emphasis  that  brought  a  surprised 
look  into  Tulita's  face.  "But  there  would  be  no 
slavery  on  the  coast  if  there  were  no  slave-traders." 

"Oh,  yes,  there  would!"  said  Tulita.  "The 
African  tribes  make  slaves  of  their  enemies,  and 
it  is  a  mercy  to  them  to  bring  them  here!  These 
people  whom  you  see  below  are  much  more  civ 
ilized  than  usual.  They  were  all  baptized  with 
Christian  names  the  other  clay,  and  Carlito  and  I 
chose  the  names.  They  were  so  pleased,  and  all 
spoke  their  names  very  well.  None  of  the  rest 
understand  their  language,  so  we  can't  find  out 
much  about  them.  Carlito  spent  a  great  deal  of 
time  teaching  them  their  names,  and  he  says 
mamma  Francisca  thinks  those  two  you  see  talk 
ing  together  are  lovers,  and  he  has  been  teasing 
papa  to  let  them  be  married." 

"They  will  not  know  what  it  means,  perhaps,  but 
it  may  keep  them  from  being  separated,"  and  with 
these  words  Carlito,  who  had  climbed  up,  threw 
himself  over  the  balustrade,  and  climbed  down 
from  the  gallery  like  a  squirrel. 


HAVANA.  23 

"Separated!"  repeated  Miss  Wentworth,  the 
truth  beginning  to  dawn  upon  her.  "  Are  families 
separated  to  be  sold?"  she  almost  gasped  out. 

"Oh,  yes,  to  be  sure;  that  is,  sometimes,"  said 
Tulita,  for  the  first  time  thinking  anything  about 
it.  "  It  does  seem  cruel,  but  papa  says  they  don't 
care." 

"Not  care!" 

"Oh,  they  are  not  like  us,  you  know." 

"I  do  not  know  any  such  thing!  —  they  must 
have  human  affections  if  they  are  human  beings  !  " 

"I  should  hardly  think  so,"  said  Tulita,  "for 
papa  says  they  are  in  the  habit  of  killing  their  own 
children." 

"Probably  to  save  them  from  slavery,"  said 
Miss  Wentworth.  "  I  like  them  all  the  better 
for  it." 

"But  they  do  it  in  Africa  —  it  is  an  African 
vice." 

"Did  you  not  say  they  were  victims  of  slavery 
there,  too  ?  Probably  the  vice  does  not  exist 
except  in  connection  with  slavery.  It  is  too 
unnatural  a  one.  Animals  love  their  young  and 
defend  them  frantically  when  attacked,  without 
taking  any  precautions  for  themselves; — it  is 
impossible  that  human  beings  should  be  below  the 
animals  in  that  respect.  Nothing  could  make  me 
believe  it.  I  know  the  colored  people  of  our  own 
country.  They  are  below  the  generality  of  whites 
in  education  or  position  ;  but  many  of  them  are 


24  HA  VANA. 

good  people,  and  some  of  them  quite  respectable  in 
intellect.  I  am  sure  of  it,  for  I  have  taught  some 
of  them  to  read." 

The  conversation,  to  the  great  relief  of  Tulita, 
who  was  beginning  to  see  what  she  had  never  seen 
before,  was  here  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of 
Padre  Jean,  a  jovial,  benevolent-looking  Irish  indi 
vidual,  in  a  Franciscan  garb,  whom  Tulita  greeted 
very  warmly  and  introduced  to  Miss  Wentworth. 

"And  how  is  the  Senorita,  your  mamma?  and 
how  is  my  boy  Carlito?"  he  inquired. 

Tulita  told  him  how  he  was  engaged. 

"Foolish  boy!"  said  he,  "is  papa  going  to 
indulge  him  ?  Where  are  his  lovers  ?  I  suppose 
they  will  only  quarrel  the  sooner  if  they  are  mar 
ried,  but  I  will  marry  them  if  Don  Miguel  says 
so,"  and  the  fat  priest  laughed  merrily. 

At  this  moment  Carlito  came  scrambling  over 
the  balustrade  in  great  excitement.  "  Oh,  where 
is  papa  ?  I  want  to  see  him  this  minute  !  " 

"Carlito,  you  have  not  spoken  to  Father  Jean." 

"  Oh,  how  do  you  do,  Father  Jean  ?  but  where 
is  papa  ? " 

"  I  think  he  is  at  home  ;  but  what  is  the  matter  ? " 

Papa  evidently  heard  the  demand  ;  for  he  now 
entered,  asking  Carlito  what  he  wanted  in  such 
haste. 

"  My  boy  is  crazy  over  some  negroes  we  have 
below,  whom  no  one  can  understand,  so  he  cannot 
gratify  his  curiosity  about  them." 


HAVANA.  25 

"Oh,  papa!  let  me  tell  you.  Juacomo  has  just 
come  back,  and  he  says  they  came  from  his  country, 
and  he  can  understand  them  —  and  mamma  Fran- 
cisca  was  right !  they  are  lovers,  they  were  just 
going  to  be  married  when  they  were  carried  off. 
Juacomo  says  he  is  Dolores'  uncle ;  he  came  away 
a  great  many  years  ago,  when  she  was  a  little  girl. 
He  says  Pedro  is  the  king ;  and  oh,  papa,  he  did 
so  to  him,"-  — making  obeisance.  "That  is  the  way 
they  do  to  their  kings  when  they  speak  to  them. 
I  asked  him  if  they  would  like  to  be  married  now, 
and  he  said  they  would.  Oh,  papa  !  won't  you  let 
Padre  Jean  marry  them  ?  Padre  Jean,  will  you 
marry  them  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes,  if  papa  says  so,  I  should  like  to  marry 
them.  But  Juacomo  must  tell  them  what  it  means, 
for  they  will  not  understand  what  I  say ;  perhaps 
Juacomo  can  tell  you  how  they  marry  people  in 
the  place  where  he  came  from." 

Carlito  was  over  the  balustrade  and  out  of  sight 
in  a  moment,  shouting,  "I  will  ask  him." 

He  soon  returned,  breathless. 

"  Juacomo  says  they  jump  over  a  stick,  and  some 
body  takes  a  long  shawl  or  a  string,  and  winds  it 
round  them,  and  then  they  dance  together.  Oh, 
how  pretty  it  will  be  !  papa,  you  will  let  them  be 
married,  won't  you  ?" 

"  I  think  you  had  better  have  waited  till  you 
found  out  before  you  went  quite  so  far,  my  boy. 
I  suppose  they  know  all  about  it  now,  and  Juacomo 


26  HA  VANA. 

will  be  greatly  disappointed  if  it  is  not  done,  but 
this  is  the  last  time  you  must  ask  such  a  thing, 
Carl,"  and  Don  Miguel  looked  more  grave  than 
was  his  wont. 

Carlito  did  not  wait  to  discuss  the  matter,  but, 
securing  the  permission,  he  was  soon  out  of  sight 
again,  and  came  up  the  other  way,  dragging  the 
two  astonished  negroes  after  him,  followed  by 
Juacomo  and  a  crowd  of  men  and  women,  with  a 
stick  and  a  long  scarf,  which  he  had  obtained  from 
one  of  the  house-servants. 

"  Ah,  these  are  some  of  the  people  I  baptized 
the  other  day.  Lend  me  your  ring,  Miss  Tulita, 
and  I  will  soon  have  them  married." 

Juacomo  laid  the  stick  upon  the  floor,  and  held 
the  scarf  ready.  After  Padre  Jean's  ceremony  and 
the  placing  of  the  ring,  at  a  signal  from  Juacomo, 
the  two  took  hold  of  hands  and  jumped  over  the 
stick,  and  Juacomo  wound  the  scarf  around  them. 
At  this  moment,  the  negroes  present,  with  one  ac 
cord,  clapped  their  hands,  which  was  a  signal  for 
the  dance  ;  but  Don  Miguel,  with  one  wave  of  his 
hand,  signified  to  Juacomo  that  that  could  not  be 
allowed,  and  they  descended  to  the  court  below, 
where  instantly  the  whole  crowd  threw  themselves 
in  wild  excitement  into  the  most  violent  contor 
tions,  accompanied  with  measured  clapping  of 
hands  and  wild  screaming,  and  for  a  few  moments 
it  was  as  if  pandemonium  was  let  loose ;  but  this 
again  was  of  brief  duration,  for  as  soon  as  the 


HAVANA.  27 

order  could  be  communicated  it  was  hushed,  and 
they  were  all  driven  to  their  quarters  and  locked 
in.  Don  Miguel  was  undoubtedly  aware  that  he 
could  not  go  too  far  in  his  violations  of  legal  pro 
visions  ;  and,  although  it  seemed  hardly  possible 
that  any  amount  of  noise  in  that  closed  court  could 
be  heard  over  the  incessant  and  uninterrupted  din 
of  the  city,  it  could  not  be  risked.  But  the  few 
moments  in  which  nature  had  resumed  its  sway 
over  these  savages  made  a  fearful  impression  upon 
Miss  Wentworth.  It  seemed  to  her  that  in  those 
screams  she  heard  the  long  suppressed  agony  burst 
forth,  which  the  new  surroundings  of  these  un 
happy  people  had  pent  up  within  them.  With  an 
excuse  she  left  the  company,  and  Tulita  followed 
her.  For  the  first  time  the  latter  had  realized  that 
the  African  slave  had  sentiments  like  her  own,  for 
marriage  is  not  promoted  by  the  slave-holders,  and 
this  was  the  first  time  she  had  ever  witnessed  such 
a  scene.  Dona  Lucia  mastered  her  tears,  as  she 
had  often  done  before,  and  Padre  Jean  was  left  to 
take  counsel  with  the  elders. 

Francisca  was  summoned  to  put  Carlito  to  bed, 
when  he  gave  his  father  the  good-night  kiss. 

"This  will  never  do,"  said  Don  Miguel.  "Let 
us  have  no  more  such  fooling,  Carlito,  or  I  shall 
never  let  you  go  down  among  the  people  again." 

Carlito  had  never  before  heard  a  word  of  reproof 
from  his  father,  and  evidently  was  not  acquainted 
with  that  face  in  anger.  It  was  indeed  a  changed 


28  HAVANA. 

face.  This  was  the  slaver,  and  Dona  Lucia  shud 
dered  when  she  saw  the  expression  of  which  his 
countenance  was  capable. 

The  friar  tried  to  turn  the  conversation,  but  it 
was  impossible  to  guide  it  into  a  gay  or  happy 
channel,  and  he  soon  took  his  leave.  His  was  not 
the  mission  to  turn  the  sinner  from  his  ways,  and 
he  regretted  that  he  had  called  that  day. 

So  great  was  Dona  Lucia's  dread  of  the  subject 
of  Carlito's  future,  that  she  commanded  herself 
sufficiently  to  sit  down  to  her  piano,  which,  she 
knew  by  experience,  could  soothe  her  husband's 
ruffled  feelings  ;  for  her  playing  was  of  no  ordinary 
merit,  and  he  had  a  Spaniard's  love  of  music. 

Throwing  herself  into  the  luxurious  boutacle 
that  stood  by  her  window,  long  and  deep  was  Miss 
Wentworth's  reverie.  Her  life  had  been  one  of 
many  experiences,  though  she  was  not  advanced  in 
years.  She  had  been  a  daughter,  a  sister,  a  friend, 
and  had  felt  all  these  relations  to  society  keenly. 
She  had  buried  parents,  brother  and  sisters,  friends. 
She  had  seen  the  loved  go  astray,  and  had  labored 
long  to  conduct  them  into  the  right  path  again, 
sometimes  without  success. 

She  had  loved  nobly,  and  not  in  vain  ;  but  she 
had  seen  the  object  of  her  affections  die  an  early 
death,  while  in  the  prime  of  life  and  usefulness. 

All  the  resources  of  a  cultivated  intellect,  of 
high  principles,  of  sanctified  affections,  had  been 
called  into  requisition  to  enable  her  to  bear  up 


HA  VAN  A. 


29 


under  these  calamities,  which  deepen  the  character 
they  do  not  discourage,  and  set  the  world's  shows 
in  their  true  light.  She  thought  she  had  sym 
pathized  with  the  oppressed  of  all  climes  and  of  all 
times  ;  but  her  home  had  been  in  the  freest  nation 
of  the  earth,  and  in  the  most  advanced  portion  of 
that  nation.  Her  forefathers  had  been  prominent 
in  service  and  suffering  for  the  cause  of  human 
rights,  and  she  had  been  nursed  upon  the  stories 
of  these  sacrifices  and  these  sufferings.  She  now 
felt  as  if  oppression  and  slavery  had  been  mere 
words  to  her.  Within  a  few  hours,  the  deepest 
crime  against  man  had  been  brought  forcibly  to 
her  notice,  and  the  perpetrators  of  it  had  an  hon 
ored  position  in  society,  practised  the  common 
social  virtues,  and  would  undoubtedly  feel  insulted 
if  their  characters  were  called  in  question.  Could 
she  stay  where  all  distinction  between  good  and  evil 
seemed  to  be  obliterated  ?  At  first  she  thought 
not. 

"How  could  Isabella  have  consigned  me  to  the 
keeping  of  such  a  family,  even  for  a  few  days  ? " 
she  asked  herself. 

But  a  second  thought  suggested  that  she  had 
no  right  to  lose  this  opportunity  of  observation, 
for  was  there  not  the  same  plague-spot  fester 
ing  in  the  heart  of  her  own  country  ?  The  noble 
Pollen,  the  saintly  Channing,  were  her  friends, 
and  from  this  standpoint  she  comprehended  the 
feeling  that  had  thrown  them  into  the  ranks  of 


30  HA  VANA. 

that  small  and  contemned  party  which  was  labor 
ing  at  home  to  waken  society  to  a  full  conception 
of  its  duty  upon  this  momentous  theme. 

Before  her  feelings  had  regained  any  measure 
of  composure,  Tulita  entered  her  room  to  invite 
her  to  drive  to  the  public  square,  to  listen  to  the 
music  of  the  black  band,  that  played  from  nine 
to  ten  every  evening  in  the  square  before  the 
Governor's  palace.  Glad  to  receive  any  relief 
from  her  present  feelings,  she  accepted  the 
invitation,  and  stepped  into  Tulita's  beautiful 
quitrin,  which  accompanied  that  of  her  father 
and  mother. 

Governor  Tacon  had  been  but  a  short  time  in 
office,  but  among  his  many  improvements  in  the 
outer  world  of  Cuban  life  was  the  transformation  of 
the  city  of  Havana  from  the  most  dangerous  to  the 
safest  city  in  the  world.  Two  years  before,  no 
man  could  walk  the  city  after  nightfall  with  safety. 
A  powerful  banditti  held  it  in  bondage.  Murders 
were  of  common  occurrence,  and,  the  moment 
there  was  any  disturbance  in  the  streets,  every 
inhabitant  who  had  a  shelter  rushed  under  cover, 
and  locked  the  doors,  for  the  sword  that  hung 
over  the  city  was  the  fear  of  insurrection.  Mem 
bers  of  the  banditti  would  call  the  householders  to 
the  door,  and  demand  enormous  sums  of  money, 
on  the  penalty  of  shooting  on  the  spot,  or  by 
threats  which  the  victims  knew  too  well  would  be 
fulfilled,  and  that  none  would  dare  to  complain  or 


HA  VAN  A.  3  I 

to  testify  against  the  murderers.  The  victims  of 
assassination  in  the  streets  were  not  picked  up  by 
their  friends,  because  the  judiciary  was  so  corrupt 
that  legal  action  would  soon  impoverish  the  richest 
man.  If  robberies  were  committed  in  the  ware 
houses  and  shops,  the  owners  would  carefully 
obliterate  all  vestiges  of  the  deed  the  next  day,  for 
the  same  reason.  It  was  less  costly  to  lose  in  the 
one  way  than  in  the  other,  for  litigation  might  be 
prolonged  for  years.  If  a  man  was  thrown  into 
prison,  the  chances  were  that  he  would  linger 
there  all  his  life,  his  expenses  charged  to  his  estate 
or  those  of  his  friends.  Not  long  before  Tacon's 
administration,  a  wealthy  man  was  assassinated  by 
mistake,  in  the  street,  taken  for  another  man. 
The  family  claimed  his  body  of  the  authorities, 
and  the  litigation  continued  until  his  widow  was 
obliged  to  buy  up  all  the  papers,  at  great  cost,  to 
save  herself  wherewith  to  live.  No  decent  woman 
dared  to  set  her  foot  upon  the  pavement  except  to 
step  into  her  volante,  and  an  evening  ride  must  be 
well  escorted  to  be  safe.  Foreigners  sometimes 
infringed  upon  these  customs,  but  only  in  emer 
gencies,  and  then  at  the  risk  of  losing  caste 
unless  their  infringements  were  pardoned  by 
Spanish  courtesy  as  sins  of  ignorance. 

But  all  this  was  changed.  The  square  before 
the  Governor's  house,  which  was  formerly  a  quag 
mire  whenever  it  rained,  was  now  laid  down  in 
what  looked  like  polished  marble,  a  cement  made 


32  HAT  A  A' A. 

of  the  lime  of  the  country  and  the  red  soil,  and 
pounded,  while  still  wet,  to  a  fine  consistency. 
This  platform,  splendidly  illuminated,  was  filled 
between  the  hours  of  nine  and  ten  with  crowds 
of  ladies,  of  all  ranks,  who  owned  or  could  hire  a 
volante.  They  paraded  the  stone  floors  arrayed 
in  their  most  elegant  attire,  sparkling  with  jewels, 
and  unbonneted,  as  in  the  ball-room,  listening  to 
the  divinest  strains  of  Italian  and  German  music, 
played  by  the  matchless  band,  whose  fame  is 
world-wide.  I  say  listening,  for  the  decorum  of 
Spanish  society  is  to  be  quiet,  instead  of  talkative, 
even  in  their  dances,  and  especially  when  music  is 
the  entertainment. 

The  banditti  was  suppressed.  Tacon's  rules 
were  imperative.  No  man  of  any  rank  was  al 
lowed  to  be  in  the  streets  after  nine  o'clock  with 
a  weapon  of  any  kind.  The  espionage  of  the  Gov 
ernor  bordered  upon  the  miraculous.  It  extended 
even  to  the  villages  and  plantations  of  the  inte 
rior,  and  every  one  who  was  ready  to  keep  order 
breathed  freely  and  enjoyed  life. 

An  ancient  tree,  which  had  stood  in  the  square, 
and  had  the  reputation  of  being  the  tree  under 
which  Columbus  is  said  to  have  reposed,  and 
which  was  very  dear  to  the  Habaneros,  was  ruth 
lessly  removed  by  Tacon,  to  make  way  for  his 
platform  ;  all  men  stood  breathless  before  his  de 
crees.  He  had  a  large  standing  army  at  his  beck, 
and  exercised  his  despotic  power  without  regard 


HA  VAN  A. 


33 


even  to  the  remonstrances  of  his  nobility,  which 
had  hitherto  been  lawless. 

Nothing  could  be  more  in  consonance  with  the 
feelings  of  Miss  Wentworth  than  the  impassioned 
strains  of  Bellini's  "  Pirata,"  which  was  at  that  mo 
ment  the  favorite  music  of  the  Habaneros,  per 
formed  every  night  at  the  opera  by  the  Pedrotti,  and 
reproduced  on  every  musical  instrument  in  the  isl 
and,  but  chiefly  and  most  marvellously  by  the 
black  band  of  the  city  troops,  who  had  no  other 
occupation  in  time  of  peace  than  to  improve  their 
music.  This  band  was  composed  of  colored  free 
men,  many  of  whom  enter  the  profession  of  music, 
and  in  whose  ranks  have  appeared  composers  of 
music  which  has  been  played  throughout  the  mu 
sical  world. 

Every  noise  is  hushed  in  that  great  city  while 
the  four  bands  of  the  regiment  play  in  the  four 
respective  squares.  The  muleteer  arrests  his  steps 
and  sits  in  profound  silence  upon  his  willing  animal 
during  the  hour ;  the  calesero  *  checks  his  horses 
to  catch  the  near  or  distant  strain.  No  bell  is 
struck.  The  crying  child  is  shut  within  the 
house.  The  barking  dog  is  soothed  or  muzzled, 
for  Tacon  has  decreed  that  it  shall  be  so  ;  and  this 
decree,  added  to  the  love  of  music  in  the  southern 
heart,  hushes  every  sound,  as  in  former  days  the 
matin  or  vesper-bell  arrested  all  worldly  pursuits 
and  turned  every  thought  heavenward. 

*  Volante-driver. 


34  HA  VANA. 

Such  holy  pauses  in  life  are  of  inestimable 
worth  amid  the  din  of  cities,  where  it  is  so  diffi 
cult  to  turn  the  mind  from  the  world  and  its 
pleasures  and  strifes.  But,  like  all  other  religious 
observances,  the  vesper  prayer  ceased  at  the  time 
when  the  revolutions  in  Spain  produced  anarchy 
and  misrule  in  the  colonies.  The  Sunday  morn 
ing  mass  would  probably  have  followed,  but  the 
custom  of  going  from  that  to  the  cock-fight  kept 
up  the  observance.  A  quarter  of  an  hour  in  the 
church  and  the  rest  of  the  day  at  the  cock-fight ! 
This  is  the  Havana  Sunday,  and,  indeed,  the 
custom  is  the  same  all  over  the  island.  Men  are 
apt  at  times  of  political  revolutions  to  think  lib 
erty  means  license  ;  and  here  the  unclevout,  once 
liberated  from  the  pressure  of  public  opinion, 
never  returned  to  his  idols,  and  national  religion 
was  at  an  end. 

But  I  wander  from  the  scene  I  was  describing. 
When  the  clock  struck  ten,  the  music  ceased, 
the  company  ascended  their  carriages,  and  in  half 
an  hour  or  less  the  square  was  empty,  and  the 
natural  sounds  of  the  city  life  resumed  their 
sway. 

Thus  far  Tacon  had  made  himself  respected  as 
a  just  though  a  severe  ruler.  None  dared  to  dis 
obey  openly,  not  even  the  hitherto  privileged 
class,  the  orders  of  Castihan  and  sugar  nobility. 
The  last  mentioned  class  was  composed  of  those 
sugar-planters  who  had  acquired  sufficient  wealth 


HAVANA.  35 

to  buy  titles  from  the  mother-country.  The 
sugar-plantations  cannot  be  confiscated  for  debt. 
This  bounty  upon  titles  robbed  the  island  of  that 
wealth  which  should  have  been  expended  for  its 
improvement,  and  up  to  that  day  there  were  not 
even  high-roads  upon  it. 

Of  late,  the  new  Governor  had  given  some  indi 
cations  that  he  was  no  respecter  of  persons  if  any 
one  interfered  with  his  plans ;  but  privileged 
classes  find  it  difficult  to  realize  that  they  are 
amenable  even  to  wholesome  laws.  So  corrupt  is 
society  in  this  respect,  whether  in  despotic  Spain 
or  in  our  own  country  of  boasted  freedom,  that 
in  both,  in  spite  of  the  popular  cry  against  rank, 
the  wealthy  and  the  powerful  are  safer  from  the 
earthly  consequences  of  sin  than  the  poor  and 
lowly. 


CHAPTER   III. 

THE    SALE. 

EARLY  on  the  morning  of  the  clay  after  the 
wedding,  as  Carlito  called  it,  the  doomed  party 
emerged  from  their  quarters  under  Don  Miguel's 
proud  mansion,  neatly  but  coarsely  arrayed, 
washed,  combed,  and  ready  for  the  sacrifice. 
Bozals  are  preferred  on  many  accounts  to  older 
residents,  particularly  on  plantations,  where  they 
learn  less  of  the  rights  of  slaves  than  in  the  cities. 
These  rights,  according  to  Spanish  law  (violated 
by  custom),  are  many,  and,  in  some  respects, 
humane.  Still  less  would  they  be  liable  in  the 
country  to  learn  that  they  were  in  truth  free  men. 

After  recovering  from  the  effects  of  the  terri 
ble  voyage,  they  were  fresh  and  unimpaired  in 
strength.  The  exposures  of  field  labor  on  the 
plantations,  and  of  sugar-making  in  the  mills, 
abridge  negro  life  very  much  in  the  Spanish  colo 
nies.  But  both  coffee  and  sugar  planters  have 
concluded  that  it  is  cheaper  to  work  gangs  to 
death,  and  then  replace  them  by  new  purchases, 
than  to  take  care  of  their  health  as  they  do  of 
that  of  their  cattle. 

36 


THE  SALE. 


37 


The  Ayetans  knew  not  on  this  day  what  was  to 
be  their  fate.  No  freemasonry  had  enabled  them 
to  learn  it  from  the  slaves  of  the  household,  whose 
grave  looks  when  they  parted  from  the  new-com 
ers  were  only  explicable  on  the  common  ground 
of  social  sympathy.  Juacomo  had  evidently  not 
told  them  anything.  The  experiment  would  have 
been  too  dangerous  for  himself,  and  of  no  use  to 
them.  The  comfortable  quarters,  the  medical 
treatment,  the  good  food,  the  kindness  of  the 
children  —  for  Tulita,  as  well  as  Carlito,  had  often 
visited  them,  laden  with  sugar-plums  and  fruit  — 
had  restored  them  not  only  to  health,  but  to  some 
measure  of  good  spirits.  Don  Miguel  was  still  an 
object  of  terror,  for,  though  he  had  apparently 
released  them  from  the  barbarous  treatment  they 
were  subjected  to  on  the  African  coast,  they 
knew  him  to  be  the  presiding  spirit  of  the  vessel 
of  torture  that  had  borne  them  across  the  ocean. 
Before  the  family  had  risen,  the  whole  party,  to 
the  number  of  forty,  was  marched  under  escort  to 
a  place  on  the  edge  of  the  city,  where  they  were 
exposed  for  inspection  during  the  day,  to  be  sold 
at  even-tide,  at  a  public  auction.  Here  sat,  or 
stood,  or  walked  about,  men,  women,  and  children 
of  all  ages  —  infants  at  mothers'  breasts,  stalwart 
youths,  athletic  maidens,  old  men,  boys,  middle- 
aged  men.  Some  were  barely  covered  with  a 
scant  garment  ;  others  were  neatly  attired  ;  some 
were  ornamented  with  trinkets ;  but  all  looked  sad 


28  THE  SALE. 

and  apprehensive.  Tearful  mothers  clasped  their 
little  ones  to  their  bosoms  as  if  for  the  last  time  ; 
husbands  and  wives  exchanged  words  which  might 
be  their  last ;  youthful  sons  and  daughters  clung 
lovingly  to  the  sides  of  their  mothers,  from  whom 
they  for  the  first  time  feared  separation.  The 
more  attractive  were  the  daughters,  the  more  in 
tense  were  the  fears  of  the  mothers,  who  scanned 
with  agonizing  penetration  the  countenances  of 
those  who  came  to  buy. 

Dolores  and  Pedro  had  left  aged  parents  in 
their  native  valley,  and  knew  nothing  of  their  sub 
sequent  fate.  They  had  left  brothers  and  sisters 
on  the  coast  where  they  had  landed,  for  when 
detailed  for  the  city  there  was  no  consultation 
respecting  kindred,  but  thus  far  they  had  each 
other,  and  while  together  they  were  not  utterly 
desolate. 

New  parties  continued  to  come  in  in  the  course 
of  the  day,  and  these  remained  there  without  food 
or  means  of  rest  till  late  in  the  afternoon.  Many 
of  them  were  evidently  bozals,  but  others  might 
be  known  by  their  dress  and  language  to  be  either 
Creoles  or  long  residents. 

Some  of  these  latter  were  unruly  servants,  who 
could  no  longer  be  trusted  in  the  city,  from  the 
greater  facilities  it  afforded  for  disorder  and  even 
for  escape.  Others  were  slaves,  who,  by  their  intel 
ligence  and  thrift,  had  been  hired  out  by  their 
masters,  and,  after  having  completed  the  tasks  as- 


THE  SALE. 


39 


signed  them,  had  earned  nearly  money  enough  to 
purchase  their  freedom,  which  can  be  done  in 
Cuba  for  five  hundred  dollars.  To  prevent  this 
consummation,  they  had  been  despoiled  of  their 
hard  earnings,  and  were  now  to  be  sold  into  the 
country,  separated  from  all  they  loved,  to  toil  in 
the  fields  and  be  again  "  broken  in."  No  disgrace 
is  more  keen  to  a  well  trained  and  accomplished 
household  slave  than  to  be  made  a  field  hand. 
This  mode  of  treatment  quells  rebellious  spirits  if 
any  human  measures  can  do  it. 

The  hour  at  length  came,  and  terror  and  heart 
sick  despair  took  possession  of  many  a  bosom  that 
had  long  been  trembling  with  vague  apprehension. 
Dolores  and  Pedro  saw  mothers  part  with  nursing 
babes,  who  were  given  into  the  rough  keeping  of 
banditti-looking  men,  to  be  conveyed  they  knew 
not  where ;  daughters  who  were  sold  to  the  high 
est  bidder  for  their  comeliness,  and  sons  who  were 
to  be  sent  to  distant  provinces  for  their  manly 
independence,  which  made  them  dangerous  fellow- 
citizens.  Wives  were  separated  from  their  hus 
bands,  the  aged  from  all  youthful  supporters. 
The  bozals  could  understand  the  natural  language 
of  grief,  terror,  and  despair,  and  when  Dolores  and 
Pedro  were  placed  upon  the  stand  and  examined 
like  fattened  beasts  in  a  stall,  the  blackness  of 
darkness  came  upon  them,  too,  illumined  indeed 
by  one  ray  of  hope,  which  a  few  moments'  time 
served  to  quench  in  eternal  night. 


4Q  THE  SALE. 

"  Dolores  and  Pedro  !  husband  and  wife,  "  said 
the  slave-dealer,  "to  be  sold  together  —  young 
and  strong  —  healthy  bozals  —  just  married  — 
hear  !  " 

"  Whom  do  you  belong  to  ? "  said  a  purchaser, 
rudely  seizing  Dolores  by  the  chin,  and  jerking  her 
bent  head  towards  him. 

Pedro  made  one  step  forward,  his  eyes  flashing 
fire  and  defiance,  but  a  cutting  lash  across  the 
face  sent  him  reeling  and  bloody  to  the  back  of 
the  platform,  where  he  was  seized  and  bound  hand 
and  foot.  A  scream  of  agony  from  Dolores  as  he 
disappeared  from  her  sight  was  the  parting  sound 
that  rang  in  Pedro's  ears  long  after  he  was  con 
veyed  from  her  presence.  Not  even  a  momentary 
sympathy  was  elicited  from  the  crowd.  Such 
demonstrations  of  human  feeling  are  too  common 
in  such  scenes  to  attract  any  notice,  and  the 
by-standers  only  crowded  nearer,  to  lose  nothing 
of  the  spectacle,  thus  blocking  up  the  street. 

A  volante  drew  up  suddenly,  to  avoid  riding 
over  the  people.  Dolores  caught  sight  of  Carlito's 
sweet  countenance,  and  stretched  out  her  arms  to 
him  with  a  supplicating  cry,  which  made  the  slave- 
dealer  turn  to  look  in  the  direction  of  her  eye. 
He  immediately  recognized  Don  Miguel,  to  whom 
he  lifted  his  hat  respectfully. 

"  Oh,  papa  !  there  is  Dolores  all  alone  !  — Where 
can  Pedro  be  ?  Do  you  think  he  is  sold  without 
her  ?  " 


THE   SALE.  4! 

"  I  am  afraid  so,  my  boy ;  but  we  cannot  help  it 
now." 

"Oh,  papa,  perhaps  you  can,  if  you  ask  that 
man.  Do  ask  him,  papa." 

"  He  is  doubtless  taken  away  before  this.  It  is 
of  no  use." 

"  But,  papa,  I  think  it  was  Dolores  that  screamed 
so  just  as  we  drove  up  —  perhaps  he  was  only  just 
carried  away." 

"  Hush,  boy.  Drive  on. —  Rascal !  why  did  you 
come  round  this  way  ?  " 

"  Oh,  papa,  Juacomo  came  this  way  because  the 
troops  blocked  up  the  other  street  —  don't  you 
know  ?  He  tried  hard  to  go  the  other  way." 

"  Yes,  I  remember,  but  let  us  get  out  of  it  as 
quick  as  possible  —  turn  round,  if  there  is  no  other 
way  —  mamma  does  not  like  to  be  sitting  here." 

Carlito  turned  to  his  mother,  whose  kind  eyes 
were  blinded  with  tears  of  compassion.  She 
begged  him  to  be  still. 

Carlito  always  obeyed  his  mother,  and  sat  down. 
The  crowd  gave  way  and  they  drove  on  ;  when 
Dolores,  who  had  stood  in  an  attitude  of  intense 
hope  and  expectation,  saw  this  last  earthly  resource 
fail,  she  fell  senseless  to  the  ground,  with  another 
wild  scream. 

Carlito  stopped  his  ears,  and  hid  his  face  in  his 
mother's  lap.  The  volante  turned  a  corner,  and 
whirled  them  into  the  Paseo.  Tulita  and  Miss 
Wentworth,  who  were  immediately  behind,  had 


42  THE  SALE. 

with  bitter  tears  witnessed  the  whole  scene,  but 
Tulita  had  checked  the  impulsive  movement  of 
Miss  Wentworth,  who  started  from  her  seat  to  add 
her  voice  of  supplication  to  Dolores'  and  Carlito's. 
Tulita  knew  too  well  that  it  would  be  of  no 
avail. 

The  Paseo,  which  was  the  object  of  the  drive,  is 
a  shaded  avenue  of  several  rows  of  trees,  in  which 
the  Havana  ladies  take  the  air  and  the  fresh  at 
nightfall,  beautifully  dressed,  and  their  male 
friends  and  cavaliers  walk  by  the  volantes  as  they 
slowly  wend  their  way,  enjoying  their  society. 
Intercourse  is  so  restricted  by  forms  that  there  is 
little  free  interchange  between  men  and  unmarried 
women,  who  must  meet  the  opposite  sex  under 
the  superintendence  of  their  mothers  or  elderly 
female  friends,  if  they  wish  to  preserve  a  fair  rep 
utation.  These  guarded  interviews  are  eagerly 
sought. 

There  were  no  handsomer  quitrins  on  the 
Paseo  than  those  of  Tulita  and  her  mother.  The 
show  of  dress,  which  was  of  the  richest  quality, 
the  ladies  unbonneted,  which  is  the  style  in 
Havana,  and  often  covered  with  jewels,  would 
have  been  a  fair  one  to  Helen  at  any  other  time  ; 
but  she  only  looked  upon  it  then  as  we  do  upon 
any  scene  that  offers  itself  to  the  eye  under  over 
mastering  emotions  —  mechanically;  and  it  was 
even  a  relief  to  her  to  be  at  last  whirled  home. 

When  they  emerged  from  the  gay  scene,  it  was 


THE  SALE. 


43 


illuminated  by  one  of  those  gorgeous  sunsets  so 
often  seen  in  that  latitude  ;  but,  by  the  time  they 
reached  home,  the  sudden  twilight,  which  is  an 
equally  striking  feature,  had  succeeded,  and  all 
was  dark  and  gloomy  as  they  ascended  the  long 
flight  of  steps,  silent  and  sad. 

Don  Miguel  scarcely  joined  the  evening  circle. 
Miss  Wentworth's  presence  was  oppressive  to 
him.  As  they  sat  upon  the  veranda  in  the  cool 
of  the  evening,  Carlito  climbed  into  his  mother's 
lap,  and  said  :  — 

"  I  am  never  going  to  sea  with  papa." 

"Why  not  ?"  said  Don  Miguel,  who  was  pacing 
the  veranda,  and  heard  this  half  whisper. 

"  I  should  not  like  to  bring  people  away  from 
home  to  be  sold." 

"  Not  if  they  were  all  the  happier  for  it  ? " 

"  How  can  that  be,  papa  ?  " 

"  Because  they  are  always  fighting  in  their  own 
country.  They  are  savages,  and  make  prisoners 
of  each  other,  and  are  very  cruel  to  each  other. 
There  are  no  wars  here,  and  Padre  Jean  has  bap 
tized  them  all  with  a  Christian  name,  and  now 
they  can  be  good  Catholics,  and  be  buried  in  holy 
ground  when  they  die." 

"  But  they  can't  understand  what  Padre  Jean 
reads  to  them  out  of  his  book." 

"They  will  learn  by  and  by." 

"  But  nobody  can  tell  them  what  it  means,  be 
cause  nobody  can  speak  their  language." 


44 


THE  SALE. 


"Perhaps  they  will  find  some  one,  just  as  they 
found  Juacomo." 

"  Papa,  do  you  know  I  found  Juacomo  crying, 
when  he  was  washing  Rosillo  ?  I  never  saw  a 
man  cry  before.  He  was  thinking  of  Dolores," 
and  Carlito  burst  into  a  wail  of  sorrow. 

"  Let  us  not  talk  any  more  about  Dolores. 
Think  how  happy  Francisca  is  when  she  is  saying 
her  prayers.  By  and  by  some  one  will  teach 
Dolores,  as  Tulita  teaches  Francisca."  And  Don 
Miguel  paced  away,  and  turned  the  corner  of  the 
house. 

Carlito  sobbed  long  and  convulsively.  It  was 
his  bed-time,  and,  as  soon  as  his  mother  had 
soothed  him,  Francisca  was  summoned  to  put  him 
to  bed.  His  mother  soon  followed  them,  and, 
when  she  sat  down  on  his  little  canopied  tent,  he 
rested  his  head  upon  her  knee  and  said  :  — 

"  Mamma,  I  mean  to  go  and  live  in  Miss  Went- 
worth's  country  ;  Tulita  says  there  are  no  slaves 
there.  I  won't  live  in  a  place  where  people  are 
sold  !  "  And  he  burst  into  another  paroxysm. 

At  last  nature  triumphed,  and  the  weary,  heart- 
stricken  child  fell  asleep. 

Tulita  had  stolen  to  the  piano,  to  change  the 
current  of  talk,  if  not  of  thought,  and  played 
some  sweet  strains,  for  she  could  not  find  her 
voice  to  sing,  till  the  carriages  came  to  the 
door  for  the  evening  drive  to  the  Governor's 
square. 


THE  SALE. 


45 


The  brilliant  scene  that  formed  the  accompani 
ment  to  the  music  "passed  before  Miss  Went- 
worth's  eyes  as  a  pageant.  She  could  only  look 
upon  its  attractions  as  bought  by  blood  and  tears. 
Again  she  listened  to  the  despairing  wail  of  Imo 
gen,  which  only  by  the  refinement  of  its  agony 
silenced  for  the  moment  the  memory  of  Dolores' 
wild  screams. 

The  barricaded  street  again  obliged  them  to 
make  a  circuit,  but  Juacomo  made  it  in  a  different 
direction,  and  gave  Miss  Wentvvorth  an  opportu 
nity  of  seeing  the  noble  cathedral  by  moonlight. 
Its  architectural  beauty  seemed  to  her  the  only 
true  worship  that  was  likely  to  rise  from  such  a 
desecrated  spot  of  earth.  She  did  not  know  then 
that  the  convent  beneath  it  was  filled  with  the 
friars  and  their  families,  or  that  the  very  sem 
blance  of  celibacy  was  dispensed  with  by  the  colo 
nial  priesthood. 

As  they  approached  the  public  stocks,  in  their 
circuit,  the  appalling  sound  of  the  lash  startled 
her  ear.  She  almost  sprang  from  the  carriage, 
but  Tulita  held  her  firmly,  and  said,  by  way  of 
explanation  :  — 

"  It  is  not  the  slave  stocks ;  it  is  some  punish 
ment  given  to  those  who  go  out  armed  after  nine 
o'clock.  It  is  a  police  regulation,  which  makes 
everything  safe." 

As  they  passed  the  spot,  they  saw  a  carriage 
drawn  up  before  the  stocks,  into  which  the  form 


46  THE  SALE. 

of  a  young  man  was  lifted  by  the  calesero  and 
footman. 

"It  is  the  volante  of  the  Marquis  of  Carova! 
What  can  it  mean  ?  "  whispered  Tulita.  "  It 
looked  like  Jose  himself,  but  it  cannot  be.  It 
frightens  me  to  think  of  it !  " 

Jose  was  the  son  of  the  Marquis  of  Carova. 
.Tulita  had  but  half  an  hour  before  pointed  him 
out  as  the  favorite  cavalier  of  the  young  ladies, 
not  only  of  his  own  rank,  but  of  a  still  lower  one, 
in  which  he  visited  unsanctioned  by  his  father. 

The  young  marquis  expectant  was  a  handsome 
and  talented  Spaniard,  possessed  of  every  grace 
and  accomplishment  that  makes  youth  captivating; 
but  his  father  was  poor,  though  titled,  which  made 
it  difficult  for  the  son  to  ally  himself  to  one  of 
equal  rank.  He  had  that  evening  been  very  atten 
tive  to  a  young  citizen  on  the  platform,  whose 
mother  had  long  had  her  eye  upon  the  young 
marquis,  wishing  to  purchase  his  title  with  the 
wealth  which  had  been  hoarded  up  for  that  end  so 
desirable  to  a  Habanero.  The  young  lady's  beauty 
and  accomplishments  were  such  as  to  excite  the 
admiration  of  all  who  saw  her  :  and  as  the  young 
cavalier  walked  by  the  side  of  her  volante,  he  was 
challenged  by  a  sentinel,  who  inquired  if  he  was 
armed.  With  the  presumption  of  his  class,  he  an 
swered  defiantly,  not  stooping  to  a  falsehood,  and 
the  sentinel  collared  him,  not  suspecting  his  rank 
in  such  company. 


THE   SALE. 


47 


The  young  nobleman  drew  from  his  breast  the 
knife  that  had  betrayed  him,  but  was  instantly  dis 
armed  and  hurried  to  the  stocks,  where  the  thirty 
lashes  were  administered,  decreed  by  recent  law 
as  the  punishment  for  carrying  arms  after  nine 
o'clock.  In  vain  he  had  protested  his  rank  and 
its  immunities.  Tacon's  orders  were  not  to  be 
questioned  ;  and,  though  the  sentinel  might  have 
allowed  him  to  pass  unchallenged  if  he  had  known 
his  rank,  the  possession  of  the  knife  was  inexcu 
sable. 

The  volante  the  young  man  was  escorting  had 
driven  on  to  his  father's  mansion,  which  was  not 
far  distant,  and  arrived  just  as  the  marquis  and  his 
lady  were  alighting  at  the  door.  The  good  woman 
who  carried  the  intelligence  was  delighted  to  have 
the  opportunity  of  speaking  to  so  great  a  person 
age,  even  under  such  circumstances ;  and,  as  soon 
as  she  informed  him  of  the  arrest  of  his  son,  he 
remounted  his  carriage  and  returned  to  the  spot, 
where  he  arrived  before  the  operation  of  flogging 
was  concluded,  and  just  as  the  carriage  of  Don 
Miguel  passed  by  his  servants  were  lifting  his  son 
into  the  vehicle. 

"  Ah,  mama !  was  that  Jose  ? "  whispered 
Tulita  to  her  mother,  as  they  ascended  the 
steps. 

"  I  think  so,  my  child,"  said  Dona  Lucia. 

"  Horrible,  mama,  is  it  not  ? "  said  Tulita. 
"  What  a  disgrace  !  whippe'd  at  the  public  stocks, 


48  THE  SALE. 

like  any  one  else  !  was  such  a  thing  ever  heard  of 
before  ?  the  son  of  a  marquis  !  " 

"  There  must  have  been  some  mistake,  my 
child.  The  Governor  would  not  have  had  one  of  his 
rank  publicly  whipped,  surely.  Do  not  be  alarmed  ; 
it  will  all  be  made  right,"  and  with  these  words 
they  entered  the  saloon,  where  Don  Miguel  was 
already  pacing  the  floor. 

"  Good  enough  for  him  !  I  am  glad  his  plumes 
are  plucked,"  said  he.  "His  pride  will  be  humbled 
now,  I  hope." 

"It  must  be  some  mistake,  I  think,"  said  Dona 
Lucia,  timidly.  "  Surely,  the  Governor  would  not 
sanction  such  an  outrage  upon  the  person  of  one 
of  the  nobility." 

"  Nobility,  indeed,  nobility  !  Tacon  has  too 
much  sense  to  let  that  make  any  difference  ! 
What  is  this  youngster  worth  beyond  Luis  Gon- 
zallo,  or  any  other  high-mettled  youth  who  has 
been  punished  for  disobeying  orders  ?  You  may 
be  sure  Tacon  is  only  glad  of  the  chance  of  show 
ing  these  proud  nobles  that  they  cannot  cross  his 
will.  The  Marquis  of  Carova  has  done  it  several 
times  of  late,  and  this  makes  the  account  square. 
For  my  part,  I  am  glad  it  has  fallen  just  where  it 
has.  Did  you  see  the  fellow  dancing  attendance 
upon  that  pretty  girl  to-night,  Tulita  ?  She  has 
plenty  of  money  to  fill  his  empty  pockets.  You 
see,  you  have  lost  your  cavalier,  hey  ?  but,  never 
mind  !  there  are  plenty  more." 


THE  SALE. 


49 


This  was  more  than  Tulita  could  bear,  and  she 
was  hastening  after  Miss  Wentworth,  who  had 
said  good-night,  but  her  father  called  her  back. 

"  What  !  going  to  bed  without  kissing  papa  ? 
that  is  something  new." 

Tulita  returned  and  kissed  her  father,  but  not  as 
usual.  He  drew  her  upon  his  knee,  and  whispered 
something  in  her  ear  which  made  her  start  back 
with  an  exclamation,  "  Ay,  papa  ;  how  can  you  ?  " 
and,  bursting  into  tears,  she  left  the  room. 

"  Now  he  is  disgraced,  perhaps  his  father  will 
let  him  marry  the  slaver's  daughter,  and  you  may 
yet  be  a  Marchioness,"  were  the  words  Don  Miguel 
had  whispered  into  the  ear  of  his  daughter. 

When  Tulita  reached  her  own  apartment,  the 
young  slave  who  attended  at  her  toilet  stood 
ready  to  bathe  her  feet  in  the  usual  manner,  and 
Tulita  suddenly  dried  her  eyes  and  suppressed  all 
evidence  of  unusual  emotion ;  for  she  knew  that 
on  the  morrow  this  untoward  event  would  be 
bruited  from  one  end  of  the  city  to  the  other  ;  and 
Tekla,  the  pretty  lady's-maid,  was  the  queen  of 
gossips,  and  knew  enough  of  her  young  mistress' 
affairs  to  make  it  dangerous  to  admit  her  to  any 
confidence.  Pleading  headache,  Tulita  sank  into  her 
boutacle,  and  threw  her  handkerchief  over  her  head, 
while  Tekla  bathed  her  feet ;  but,  declining  to  have 
her  hair  combed  as  usual,  she  quietly  undressed 
and  threw  herself  upon  the  bed.  When  Tekla  had 
retired,  her  mother  stole  into  the  room  to  give  her 


^o  THE  SALE. 

the  accustomed  caress  and  blessing,  which  were 
more  tender  than  usual,  if  possible,  but  accom 
panied  by  few  words,  and  it  was  not  till  she  left 
her  that  Tulita  gave  way  to  a  passion  of  tears, 
such  as  only  the  young  and  hopeful  shed  when 
grieved  and  disappointed.  Tulita' s  heart  was  yet 
pure  and  uncorrupted ;  but  she  was  destined  to 
be  made  the  tool  of  the  ambitious  and  the  selfish, 
who  were  old  and  wise  in  the  world's  ways.  Yet 
such  are  the  fetters  of  custom  that  she  suffered 
more  when  she  thought  of  the  disgrace  and  momen 
tary  suffering  of  a  favorite  than  for  the  despair  of 
the  bondswoman,  for  whose  fate  there  was  no 
redemption. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

LA     CONSOLACION. 

THE  arrival,  from  the  plantation  of  La  Consola- 
cion,  of  the  housekeeper  who  was  to  be  her  escort 
into  the  country,  was  announced  to  Miss  Went- 
worth  one  evening  on  her  return  from  the  music ; 
and,  after  parting  words  with  her  hostess  and 
Tulita,  she  hastened  to  her  room  to  make  arrange; 
ments  for  starting  at  daybreak,  in  order  to  avoid 
the  noonday  heats.  Tulita  had  formed  many 
plans  of  entertainment  for  Miss  Wentworth,  and 
was  much  disappointed  when  she  had  heard  of  the 
arrival  of  Mrs.  Warwick.  The  housekeeper  of 
the  Marchioness  of  Rodriguez  was  an  American, 
whom  Miss  Wentworth  had  sent  to  Cuba  eighteen 
years  before  as  nur,se  to  her  friend's  first-born. 
The  Marchioness  had  lived  too  long  in  America  to 
be  willing  to  give  her  child  into  the  care  of  a  negro 
slave. 

Mrs.  Warwick  had  retired  much  fatigued  from 
her  ride,  and  would  have  been  very  glad  to  have 
lain  over  for  a  day's  rest,  but  no  such  intimation 
was  made,  and  Miss  Wentworth  was  only  too  glad 
to  escape  the  necessity  of  exchanging  any  more 

51 


t|2  LA    CONSOLACION. 

courtesies  with  Don  Miguel,  who  was  more  and 
more  repugnant  to  her  feelings.  When  her  prepa 
rations  for  the  morning  were  made,  and  she  had 
dismissed  the  young  waiting  maid  who  had  been 
assigned  her  in  Dona  Lucia's-  hospitable  arrange 
ments,  she  threw  herself  on  her  bed,  but  it  was 
not  to  sleep.  So  far  from  that,  her  whole  past  life 
seemed  to  come  up  for  review,  and  what  aston 
ished  her  more  than  all  things  else  in  this  review 
was  the  fact  that,  with  what  she  did  know  formerly 
upon  this  subject,  she  had  not  sought  to  know 
more.  The  intensity  of  Channing's  emotions 
upon  it  was  now  explained  to  her.  In  pursuit  of 
health  he  had  sought  the  climates  of  slave-lands, 
and  had  seen  slavery  for  himself  as  she  now  saw 
it.  She  saw  now  how  the  general  atmosphere  of 
opinion  influences  the  mind,  if  experience  has  not 
given  it  the  means  of  throwing  it  off  and  judging 
subjects  by  principles.  She  remembered  her 
mother's  enthusiastic  ejaculations  when  speaking 
of  Wilberforce,  and  referring  to  the  sufferings  of 
the  middle  passage.  The  reference  was  some 
what  vague,  for  she  was  a  child  then,  to  whom  her 
mother  would  not  recount  the  details  of  horrors. 
Her  mother  had  long  since  passed  away,  but  her 
daughter  remembered  the  stories  of  sacrifices  and 
sufferings  her  family  had  experienced  in  leaving 
their  English  home  for  the  love  of  freedom  — 
freedom,  whose  significance  she  now  for  the  first 
time  realized.  She  had  never  known  anything  else 


LA    CONSOLACION. 


53 


but  freedom,  and  had  compared  it  with  nothing 
else.  It  covered  far  more  than  worshipping  God 
according  to  the  dictates  of  conscience,  which  was 
the  Pilgrims'  shibboleth.  Pollen  had  sympathized 
with  down-trodden  nationalities,  and  had  defended 
them  before  European  courts  at  the  risk  of  his 
life,  and  when  he  came  to  America  it  was  coming, 
as  it  were,  to  ideal  liberty.  She  was  familiar  with 
the  story  of  his  life,  but  saw  now  how  little  she 
had  appreciated  it,  enthusiastic  as  was  her  feeling 
at  the  time.  She  remembered,  too,  his  pain  when 
the  knowledge  of  slavery  first  dimmed  the  fair 
picture  he  had  drawn  of  America.  She  with 
others  had  criticised  what  were  then  called  Garri 
son's  extreme  views  as  they  appeared  to  her 
through  the  medium  of  other  minds.  She  had 
wondered  at  the  opposition  of  decided  anti-slavery 
men  to  the  scheme  of  colonization  ;  but  she  under 
stood  it  now.  She  now  saw  why  the  slave-holders 
favored  it  —  not  because  of  their  humanity  to  the 
race,  but  because  it  would  be  so  convenient  to  have 
all  the  freemen  of  that  race  removed  from  the 
vicinity  of  slavery,  whose  peaceful  existence  their 
freedom  threatened.  She  had  heard  Follen  state 
this  strongly,  but  then  thought  he  went  too  far  in 
judging  ill  of  his  fellow-men,  kind  and  just  as  he 
was  on  all  other  subjects.  Such,  again,  was  the 
influence  of  prevailing  sentiments.  The  great 
upheaval  had  not  yet  come  ;  when  it  did  come,  it 
was  demonstrated  that  these  lax  judgments  were 


54 


LA    COXSOLACIOX. 


founded  on  self-interest,  for  the  northern  portion 
of  her  country  proved  to  have  been  deeply  in 
volved  in  the  pecuniary  gains  of  slavery,  and  there 
fore  blinded  to  its  heinousness.  She  remembered 
the  intelligent  colored  boy  in  her  grandfather's 
village,  where  she  went  to  school  in  her  childhood 
after  her  parents'  death.  He  was  the  best  de- 
claimer  in  the  school,  and  a  manly  boy  in  every 
sense  of  the  word,  who  grew  to  be  a  respected 
member  of  society,  intrusted  with  town  interests, 
and  his  name  another  word  for  honesty  and 
fidelity.  How  long  ago  she  had  forgotten  John 
Gibson  !  with  whom  she  had  studied  and  recited 
and  played  as  with  any  child  of  her  own  color. 
She  remembered,  too,  the  bright  girls  in  her  own 
Sunday-school  class  in  the  African  church  at  a 
later  period,  one  of  whom  became  a  distinguished 
proficient  in  American  history,  and  wrote  sensible 
articles  in  the  anti-slavery  papers.  More  strongly 
than  ever  she  felt  it  her  duty  to  stay  and  learn 
all  she  could,  that  she  might  help  to  clear  up 
doubting  minds.  She  hoped  she  had  seen  the 
worst  —  it  must  be  better,  she  was  sure,  in  the 
rural  districts. 

What  were  likely  to  be  her  farther  experiences 
in  this  fearful  land?  This  subject  had  never  been 
a  theme  of  the  correspondence  she  had  kept  alive 
with  her  Cuban  friend  for  the  last  twenty  years. 
She  knew  she  had  married  a  slave-holder,  but  she 
knew  him  to  be  a  devoted  husband  and  father. 


LA    CONSOLACION. 


55 


She  even  knew  that  he  loved  his  horses  with  a 
special  affection.  Could  she  doubt  that  he  had 
feeling  for  his  brother-man  ?  She  did  not  yet 
fully  realize  that  his  brother-man  had  passions 
and  will  of  his  own,  that  made  him  hard  to  govern 
—  that,  in  order  to  keep  him  in  subjection,  he 
must  be  treated  despotically,  and  that  irrespon 
sible  power  was  liable  to  ruin  the  best  organized 
natures  and  silence  all  the  best  instincts  of  the 
heart.  She  had  often  heard  that  the  wildest  and 
most  excited  horse  could  be  instantly  calmed  by 
the  touch  and  voice  of  the  Marquis  of  Rodriguez, 
and  she  found  herself  imagining  this  benign  influ 
ence  exerted  over  human  beings,  till  the  tumult  of 
her  soul  was  calmed,  and  she  fell  asleep,  to  be 
roused  —  as  it  seemed  to  her,  immediately  —  by 
the  summons  to  start  upon  her  journey. 

It  had  been  arranged  that,  if  the  good  Mrs.  War 
wick  concurred,  Carlito  should  "accompany  them 
for  a  short  visit ;  for  the  accident  that  had  opened 
up  to  the  child  the  horrors  of  slavery  had  so 
affected  his  happiness  that  he  could  not  sleep,  and 
both  father  and  mother  wished  for  a  change  of 
scene,  hoping  the  impression  would  fade.  Mrs. 
Warwick  consented  to  take  him,  although  she  knew 
the  Marchioness  kept  her  children  very  much 
apart  from  others  less  guarded  in  their  lives  than 
their  own,  and  he  was  so  overjoyed  at  the  prospect 
of  the  visit  that  he  rallied  at  once  and  left  home 
and  his  mother  in  high  spirits.  His  father  prom- 


5 6  LA   CONSOLACION. 

ised  to  bring  him  home  when  he  should  take  Tulita 
to  a  neighboring  plantation,  which  would  now  be 
very  soon,  as  the  Christmas  holidays  were  approach 
ing,  and  at  that  season  the  plantations,  otherwise 
dull  places  to  the  young,  were  given  up  to  gayety. 

The  relief  afforded  by  nature,  seen  in  such  a  dif 
ferent  aspect  from  anything  that  had  before  met 
her  eyes,  was  inexpressible  to  Miss  Wentworth, 
and  the  prattle  of  Carlito  aided  its  effect. 

After  leaving  the  white  limestone  formation  that 
surrounds  the  city  of  Havana,  and  which  is  very 
dazzling  and  trying  to  the  eyes,  they  passed  into 
the  deep,  rich,  red  soil  of  the  interior,  which  makes 
such  fine  contrast  with  the  luxuriant  foliage.  No 
fences  mar  the  beauty  of  the  scenery,  but  the 
plantations  are  bordered  with  broad  lime  hedges, 
impervious,  by  reason  of  their  spines,  to  man  or 
beast,  and  often  covered  in  their  turn  by  a  little 
blue  convolvulus,  whose  delicate  vine  trails  over 
them  and  the  adjacent  earth.  No  houses  are  seen 
from  the  road,  but  gates,  sometimes  of  great  archi 
tectural  beauty,  and  always  more  or  less  preten 
tious,  shut  in  long  avenues  of  trees,  at  the  end  of 
which,  within  ample  squares,  stand  the  low  ram 
bling  houses,  usually  built  with  posts  of  the  lignum- 
vitae  wood,  which  is  impervious  to  the  attacks  of 
insects,  and  filled  in  with  cocoa  or  bamboo  stakes, 
plastered.  These  houses  are  floored,  within,  and  on 
the  broad  piazzas  that  surround  them,  with  the 
same  concrete  as  the  platform  in  the  Governor's 


LA    CONSOLACION. 


57 


square,  made  of  lime  and  the  red  earth,  laid  down 
wet,  and  then  pounded  by  enormous  piles  into  a 
consistency  which  resembles  marble  and  takes  a 
very  fine  polish.  These  piazzas  are  often  made 
with  circular  openings  for  plants,  which  form  little 
gardens,  as  it  were,  that  the  ladies  of  the  house 
can  enjoy,  without  stepping  upon  the  soil,  which  a 
large  portion  of  the  year,  that  of  the  rainy  season, 
is  of  the  consistency  of  hasty  pudding,  to  borrow 
a  familiar  image,  the  earth  not  having  a  pebble  in 
it  of  the  size  of  a  pin's  head. 

Heavy  rain  in  the  night  —  very  unusual  at  the 
season,  which  was  midwinter — had  made  the  roads 
almost  impassable.  They  were  fearful  to  an  inex 
perienced  traveller,  and  many  times  the  trusty 
negro  who  headed  the  escort  had  lifted  Miss  Went- 
worth  and  her  heavy  companion,  the  housekeeper 
of  her  friend,  from  the  volante  (Carlito  took  care 
of  himself),  and  placed  them  on  a  dry  spot  while 
the  vehicle  was  pulled  from  the  deep  mud-holes  in 
which  it  occasionally  sank.  Gullies,  fifty  feet  in 
depth,  had  to  be  descended  on  one  side  and 
ascended  on  the  other,  and  the  driver,  who  sits  on 
the  outside  horse,  and  guides  the  one  that  is 
between  the  bars  at  arm's  length,  did  not  seem  to 
have  any  fears  of  a  successful  transit  unless  water 
stood  at  the  bottom  ;  but  the  enormous  wheels  of 
the  volantes,  wheels  of  the  size  and  width  of  our 
largest  cart-wheels,  must  not  sink  too  deep,  or  they 
cannot  be  extricated,  so  the  occupants  of  the 


58  LA    CONSOLACION. 

vehicle  must  alight  and  be  carried  over  on  the 
sides  of  the  declivity,  or,  perchance,  through  the 
mud  and  mire,  in  the  arms  of  attendants.  Women 
never  travel  in  the  rainy  season,  and  men  usually 
on  horseback ;  but  in  exceptional  cases,  like  this, 
unknown  perils  may  be  encountered,  and  it  seemed 
to  Helen,  sometimes,  that  all  hopes  of  a  safe  arrival 
were  futile.  The  old  lady  who  served  her  as 
escort  took  the  perils  very  quietly,  which  some 
what  reassured  her,  and  when  the  sun  became 
pretty  high,  and  threatened  to  be  intolerable,  they 
entered  an  avenue  of  beautiful  trees,  at  the  end  of 
which  stood  a  hospitable  mansion,  where  they 
were  received  as  if  expected.  There  are  no  inns 
by  the  way  in  that  country,  but  the  hospitality  of 
the  people  is  unmeasured,  and  always  freely  in 
voked. 

Miss  Wentworth  could  speak  the  language,  and 
found  that  the  tidings  she  brought  from  the  city 
amply  compensated  her  hosts  for  the  trouble  of 
entertaining  her  for  a  few  hours,  and,  after  doing 
her  best  thus  to  requite  their  kindness,  she  gladly 
accepted  an  invitation  to  rest  her  wearied  limbs  in 
a  luxurious  hammock,  where  she  was  considerately 
left  to  sleep  until  she  was  roused  to  continue  her 
journey.  The  worst  roads  were  passed,  and  when 
she  entered  the  circle  of  San  Marcos,  not  far  from 
the  mountains  of  San  Salvador,  she  found  the 
plantations  of  the  Castilian  nobility  distinguished 
for  their  cultivation  and  beauty.  The  one  which 


LA    CONSOLACION. 


59 


was  the  scene  of  the  chief  incidents  of  my  story 
was  approached  by  a  long  avenue  of  palms,  which 
seemed  to  throw  their  slender  columns  so  high 
because  they  worshipped  the  sun  which  had  drawn 
them  forth  from  the  rich,  red  earth  of  that  region. 
Such,  at  least,  was  the  thought  suggested  by  their 
columnar  beauty  to  Miss  Wentworth  as  she  leaned 
back  in  the  luxurious  volante  which  was  winding 
its  way  through  their  ranks,  that  seemed  inter 
minable.  She  had  long  ceased  to  utter  the  trans 
ports  of  her  enjoyment  to  her  companion,  who,- 
less  youthful,  less  enthusiastic  than  herself,  had 
fallen  fast  asleep  —  besides  which,  she  had  no  words 
in  which  she  could  appropriately  express  her 
admiration,  for,  as  she  rode  on,  the  enchantment 
increased.  Carlito  was  beside  himself  with  delight, 
for  this  was  his  first  visit  to  the  interior  of  the 
island. 

The  sun  was  just  setting  in  tropical  glory,  and 
as  they  passed,  crossing  avenues  of  these  peculiar 
trees,  the  vistas  were  illuminated  by  a  roseate  light, 
which  gave  them  the  effect  of  colonnades  of  mar 
ble  pillars.  The  rich  evergreen  of  the  leaves  of 
the  coffee-plant  formed  a  fine  relief  to  the  snowy 
whiteness  of  the  palm  shafts;  as  they  approached 
the  house,  shrubs  of  various  flowers  were  inter 
spersed  with  the  trees,  till  in  the  more  immediate 
vicinity  of  it  they  gave  place  to  others  as  new  to 
her  ;  to  the  mango,  with  its  pear-like  fruit,  to  the 
orange-tree,  the  laurustinus,  and  the  bamboo, 


60  I- A    CONSOLACION. 

which  seems  to  sweep  the  sky  with  its  plumes,  and 
forms  an  arch  of  shade  impervious  to  the  sun  ;  the 
ground  being  carpeted  like  our  pine  forests  with 
the  fallen  leaves.  On  emerging  from  this  cool 
shade,  the  road  opened  into  an  area  whose  centre 
was  occupied  by  a  spacious  marble  basin  of  water, 
which  was  immediately  surrounded  by  a  hedge  of 
roses  in  perfection  of  bloom.  The  hedge  was  cut 
so  low  as  not  to  intercept  the  view  of  the  water 
from  the  carriage.  Within  the  hedge,  on  the  edge 
of  the  basin,  was  a  rich  garden  border  of  flowers, 
among  which  stood  many  classic  vases  where  vines 
had  strayed  from  their  bed  and  found  their  way  to 
the  waters  of  the  pond,  festooning  the  whole  edge 
with  the  most  splendid  colors  of  the  floral  kingdom. 
Into  this  area  opened  avenues  from  every  direc 
tion.  The  calesero  dashed  into  one  of  these,  and, 
suddenly  quickening  his  pace,  whirled  the  volante 
to  the  piazza  of  the  princely  Rodriguez  mansion. 

Here  Miss  Wentworth  was  folded  in  the  arms  of 
her  old  friend,  whom  she  had  not  seen  since  they 
resided  on  her  grandfather's  farm  in  Berkshire 
County,  Massachusetts,  twenty  years  before.  The 
matronly  beauty  of  the  Marchioness  was  even  more 
attractive  than  that  of  her  youth  had  been,  and 
when  she  greeted  Helen  with  the  affection  of  a 
sister,  amid  the  perfume  of  roses  and  the  play  of  a 
fountain,  which  stood  like  a  familiar  household 
spirit  in  an  opening  on  \.\\a.\.  floor  of  luxury,  as  the 
beautiful  Castilian  idiom  designates  the  highly 


LA    CONSOLACION.  61 

polished  composition  piazzas  that  surround  the 
houses,  it  seemed  to  her  that  she  was  in  the  very 
gates  of  Paradise.  Voices  are  more  mellow,  ob 
jects  more  soft,  in  that  delicious  climate,  than  else 
where,  and  the  air  seemed  full  of  music  as  well  as 
of  perfume. 

Miss  Wentworth,  or  Helen,  as  we  will  now  call 
her,  was  in  the  prime  of  life.  The  heyday  of 
youth  had  not  only  passed,  but  she  was  perhaps 
prematurely  old  in  the  experience  of  life,  and  had 
never  again  expected  to  be  taken  captive  by  any 
beauty  whose  inmost  reason  for  being  she  had  not 
penetrated,  but  from  the  time  she  had  been  re 
lieved  of  her  fears  of  perils  by  the  way,  and  had 
breathed  that  divine  air  loaded  with  tropical  sweets, 
her  blood  had  flowed  with  the  vivacity  of  youth, 
and,  wearied  as  was  her  frame,  she  was  completely 
intoxicated  with  the  scene  and  the  joy  of  the  meet 
ing.  When  she  afterwards  remembered  how  pain 
fully  and  suddenly  she  was  disenchanted,  it  seemed 
like  a  dream  of  surpassing  beauty  for  whose  ingre 
dients  she  looked  in  vain.  The  next  morning,  the 
glory  had  faded  from  the  skies,  the  clustered  roses, 
wet  with  dew,  appeared  like  angels  with  drooping 
wings  mourning  over  lost  humanity  ;  the  palm-trees, 
which  the  evening  before  had  seemed  to  stretch 
toward  the  skies  in  order  to  worship  the  sun,  now 
appeared  to  struggle  upward  because  they  loathed 
their  parent  earth.  Their  stiff  leaves  looked  like 
the  fixed  gaze  of  despair ;  they  were  but  the  em- 


62  LA    CONSOLACION. 

blem  of  desolation,  standing  apart,  with  no  wish  to 
mingle  with  humankind,  lest  the  wail  of  sorrow 
should  pass  along  their  ranks.  But  I  anticipate. 

Guests  are  not  allowed  to  sit  late  in  the  damp 
evening  air,  which  insidiously  affects  the  stranger 
in  that  climate,  and  after  the  sudden  twilight  of 
tropical  latitudes  had  succeeded  the  brilliant  sun 
set,  and  they  had  taken  a  few  turns  on  the  luxurious 
gallery,  Helen  was  taken  in  to  look  at  the  precious 
jewels,  her  friend's  children,  who  had  been  taken 
to  their  little  tent  beds  just  before  her  arrival,  tired 
out  with  their  day's  play.  Carlito  was  told  that 
they  would  have  been  kept  up  to  welcome  him  if 
he  had  been  expected,  but  the  party  had  not  been 
looked  for  so  early. 

The  spacious  saloon,  which  constitutes  the  chief 
apartment  of  a  country  mansion  in  Cuba,  was  more 
simply  furnished  than  that  of  Don  Miguel  Arbrides' 
pretentious  abode  in  the  city,  for  in  Cuban  country- 
life  all  ceremonies  and  etiquette  are  relaxed,  and 
comfort  rather  takes  the  place  of  show.  Not  that 
it  can  be  called  comfort  in  the  New  England  sense 
of  that  term,  but  in  a  climate  where  one  only  needs 
shelter  from  the  sun  and  rain,  and  no  protection 
from  chilling  and  changing  winds,  much  fewer  ap 
pliances  are  requisite  to  supply  the  natural  wants 
of  man.  Deep  leather  boutacles,  lounges  covered 
with  the  same  material,  before  which  stood  light 
sofa-tables,  bamboo  tabourets  of  various  sizes,  what 
nots  of  the  same  material  for  books  and  articles  of 


LA    COiVSOLACION.  63 

virtu;  high  massive  sideboards,  on  which  stood 
silver  candlesticks,  protected  by  cut-glass  guarda- 
brisas,  or  wind-shades,  of  glass,  stood  upon  the 
highly  polished  floors,  which  were  uncarpeted,  for 
insect  life  in  the  tropics  renders  the  use  of  carpets 
impracticable.  The  hall  was  unsealed,  the  parti 
tion  walls  reaching  only  within  a  foot  of  the  rafters, 
which  were  handsomely  carved,  but  left  naked  for 
the  free  circulation  of  air.  These  spacious  apart 
ments  have  a  desolate  air  to  the  eye  of  a  stranger 
accustomed  to  close  and  carpeted  rooms,  sheltered 
by  glass  windows  and  curtains,  but  art  had  done 
something  for  this  one  to  relieve  it  of  the  effect  of 
its  extent  and  barrenness.  A  wreath  of  fruits, 
flowers,  and  birds  was  painted  all  around  it  on  the 
plastered  walls,  of  a  light  sky-blue,  so  gorgeous 
and  luxurious  in  hue  that  it  riveted  the  gaze  even 
by  candle-light,  and  illuminated  what  would  other 
wise  have  been  the  darkness  of  the  apartment. 
Behind  this  apartment  was  another  wide  piazza, 
curtained  by  heavy  duck,  with  a  border  painted 
somewhat  in  the  same  style  ;  this  gallery  was  used 
as  the  dining-hall,  where  the  party  partook  of  light 
refreshment,  and  were  then  conducted  to  their  own 
apartments.  There  were  large  rooms  on  either 
side  the  hall,  one  of  which  was  the  sleeping-room 
of  the  Marchioness,  around  which  were  smaller 
apartments  for  the  children's  little  tented  beds, 
and  beyond  these  Miss  Wentworth  was  ushered 
into  her  own  spacious  apartment,  near  which  was 


64  LA   CONSOLACION. 

a  smaller  one,  in  which  Carlito  was  quite  ready  to 
be  put  to  bed  by  the  kind  Mrs.  Warwick. 

A  nice  little  ebony  lass  stood  ready  to  bathe  Miss 
Wentworth's  feet  and  to  help  her  undress,  but 
these  were  offices  she  had  always  performed  for 
herself,  and,  with  a  painful  remembrance  of  her 
late  Havana  life,  she  gently  declined  the  aid  of  the 
young  girl,  who  stood  in  silent  wonder  to  see  the 
lady  wait  upon  herself. 

"  Solidad  is  much  disappointed,"  said  the  Mar 
chioness,  who  had  followed  Miss  Wentworth  to 
her  room.  "  She  was  much  delighted  at  being  ap 
pointed  lady's-maid  to  the  long-expected  friend ; 
but  you  will  soon  learn  the  luxury  of  being  waited 
upon,  in  this  climate." 

"  She  shall  be  my  little  maid,  if  she  wishes  it," 
said  Miss  Wentworth,  "but  not  my  little  slave. 
It  does  not  seem  to  me,  now,  that  I  can  ever  let 
any  one  wash  my  feet,  in  that  capacity." 

"  I  shall  leave  it  to  Solidad  to  persuade  you," 
said  the  Marchioness.  "  When  you  have  met  her 
half  a  dozen  times  a  day,  at  your  chamber  door, 
with  a  tub  of  warm  water  upon  her  head,  you  will 
capitulate,  and  make  her  happy  by  allowing  her 
to  wash  your  feet ;  and  then  she  will  hold  out 
her  hand  for  a  medio,  for  the  slave  does  not  like 
to  serve  you  for  nothing,  and  if  you  wish  for  their 
good  services  you  must  buy  them." 

"  She  shall  have  the  medio  this  time,  for 
her  good-will,"  said  Miss  Wentworth.  "  Is  it 


LA    CONSOLACION.  65 

the  fear  of  losing  it  that  makes  her  look  so 
grave  ? " 

Solidad's  face  brightened  again  with  a  smile 
when  Miss  Wentworth  dropped  the  medio  into  her 
hand,  and  then  despatched  her  to  her  quarters. 

As  she  glanced  round  the  room,  after  her  friend's 
parting  kiss,  before  she  threw  herself  upon  the 
mosquito-netted  cot,  which  was  two-thirds  ham 
mock,  she  was  aware  that  her  walls  were  adorned 
with  what  she  supposed  landscape  papers,  and  her 
attention  was  for  a  moment  riveted  upon  a  scene 
that  she  remembered  to  have  been  sketched  by 
the  Marchioness  in  her  girlhood  —  for  the  Mar 
chioness  was  an  artist,  and  this  must  have  been 
her  work.  But  she  was  too  weary  to  examine  it, 
and  the  only  light  in  the  room  was  afforded  by 
carved  gourds  containing  brilliant  curculios,  a 
beetle  which  is  of  the  nature  of  a  gigantic  fire-fly ; 
and  it  was  but  a  few  moments  after  Isabella  left 
her  before  she  had  sunk  into  a  slumber  such  as 
can  be  enjoyed  only  in  that  atmosphere,  which 
seems  created  for  sleep,  so  soothingly  does  it 
bathe  the  limbs  and  faculties  in  repose. 

Her  last  thought,  as  she  fell  asleep,  was  the 
comforting  reflection  that  here  she  should  be 
spared  the  pain  of  witnessing  any  distressing  fea 
tures  of  the  institution  to  which  she  had  had  so 
appalling  an  introduction.  But  her  little  bark  of 
sleep  seemed  to  her  scarcely  launched  on  the 
sea  of  night  before  she  was  roused  from  her  re- 


66  LA    CONSOLACION. 

freshing  slumber  by  the  most  piercing  and  heart 
rending  shrieks,  from  many  voices,  accompanied 
by  the  terrific  sound  of  the  lash. 

She  sprang  from  her  bed,  and  grasped  the  han 
dle  of  a  door  that  led  upon  the  gallery.  Voices 
reassured  her  as  she  rushed  from  the  room.  How 
can  I  describe  the  scene  to  those  who  are  yet 
novices  in  such  horrors  ?  A  man  who  looked 
more  like  a  demon  than  a  human  being  was  ap 
plying  his  instrument  of  torture  to  the  old  negro 
who  had  been  Miss  Wentworth's  kind  and  atten 
tive  escort.  His  blood  was  pouring  from  the 
wounds  inflicted  by  the  lash.  The  groans  of  the 
victim,  the  shrieks  of  his  wife  and  children,  were 
maddening  to  her  ear.  The  friend  of  her  youth, 
whom  she  knew  to  be  the  milk  of  human  kindness, 
stood  motionless,  though  pale  and  weeping.  The 
Marquis,  who  had  appeared  to  her,  the  evening  be 
fore,  to  be  the  embodiment  of  all  her  fancy  had 
pictured  as  the  noble  knight  and  the  "  preux  che 
valier,"  paced  the  gallery  with  a  hurried  step,  but 
did  not  interfere. 

Miss  Wentworth  looked  at  them  a  moment  in 
unspeakable  amazement,  arid  then,  as  if  impelled 
by  energies  that  had  never  before  been  roused, 
darted  from  the  piazza.,  and  seized  the  arm  of  the 
wretch  who  was  inflicting  the  punishment.  At 
the  same  moment,  a  youth  of  twenty,  whom  she 
had  not  seen  the  night  before,  but  whom  she 
knew  must  be  the  oldest  son  of  her  friend,  ran 


LA    CONSOLACIOAT.  67 

from  the  house,  exclaiming,  "  My  God  !  I  will 
shoot  the  wretch  "  ;  and  held  up  a  pistol  as  if  ready 
to  discharge  it.  His  father  struck  back  his  arm, 
and  sternly  commanded  him  to  go  back  into  the 
house,  where  he  followed  him,  and  probably  for 
bade  his  reappearance,  for  he  was  seen  no  more. 

Miss  Wentworth's  impulsive  movement  had  ar 
rested,  not  only  the  attention,  but  the  arm  of  the 
overseer  :  but  his  wrath  was  not  expended,  and, 
seeing  that  she  was  not  seconded,  he  continued 
his  flagellations — -with  more  passion  than  before, 
if  possible. 

The  deep  slumbers  of  the  children  were  not  dis 
turbed  by  the  noise,  thanks  to  the  construction  of 
the  mansion.  The  rooms  in  which  the  family 
lived  were  approached  by  a  flight  of  twenty  or 
thirty  steps,  but  Manuel  had  been  roused  by  his 
brother,  so  the  circumstances  could  not  be  wholly 
concealed  from  him. 

The  Marquis  called  the  overseer  to  his  apart 
ment,  and  the  wife  and  children  of  the  slave  re 
moved  the  poor  old  man  from  the  blood-stained 
ground. 

The  Marchioness  called  Miss  Wentworth  from 
her  room,  and,  throwing  herself  into  a  boutacle  in 
the  saloon,  burst  into  tears.  After  a  few  moments 
of  convulsive  weeping,  she  commanded  herself 
sufficiently  to  say  :  — 

"  Poor  Carlo  !  he  was  never  whipped  before,  nor 
did  my  children  ever  before  witness  or  listen  to 


68  LA    CONSOLACION. 

such  a  scene ;  Ludovico  is  old  enough  to  know 
all  the  penalties  of  slavery,  but  we  have  kept 
everything  we  could,  even  from  Manuel,  that 
would  distress  them.  This  wretch  is  a  temporary 
overseer,  and  has  brought  badly  trained  blood 
hounds,  who  frighten  the  people,  and  then  he 
punishes  them  for  defending  themselves.  I  assure 
you,  my  dear  Helen,  this  is  the  first  time  I  have 
seen  such  a  spectacle  since  my  marriage." 

"I  am  glad  it  is  not  common,"  said  Helen,  un 
able  to  suppress  her  indignation ;  "it  is  bad 
enough  that  it  is  possible,  Isabella." 

"  Ah,  it  is  not  so  uncommon,"  said  Isabella, 
"  but  all  the  whipping  is  done  at  the  other  plan 
tation,  for  my  sake  and  for  the  sake  of  the  chil 
dren.  When  I  returned  from  the  States,  my  good 
father  indulged  me  by  discontinuing  the  custom 
of  having  the  punishments  inflicted  before  the 
house,  and  my  husband  has  done  the  same  here." 

"  Then  it  is  a  favorite  spectacle  with  slave-hold 
ers  ! "  said  Helen,  more  indignant  than  ever. 

"  Oh  !  no,  Helen,  but  it  is  done  in  the  presence 
of  the  master,  that  he  may  control  its  severity.  The 
slaves  look  to  him  for  protection  against  the  over 
seer,  whose  power,  while  in  office,  is  absolute,  and 
necessarily  so,  or  he  could  preserve  no  discipline." 

"  Protection  !  discipline  !  "  were  all  the  words 
Helen  could  utter. 

"  You  will  surely  agree  that  there  must  be  dis 
cipline  of  such  savage  creatures." 


LA    CONSOLACION.  69 

"  It  is  not  the  discipline  for  human  beings, 
and  you  are  satisfied  when  you  spare  your 
own  feelings  by  not  witnessing  it ! "  exclaimed 
Helen. 

Isabella  burst  into  fresh  tears.  "  Indeed, 
Helen,  you  are  cruel.  We  women  cannot  help 
this  thing.  Would  you  deny  us  the  small  boon 
of  having  it  out  of  our  sight  ? " 

"  My  dear  Isabel,  you  must  forgive  me  if  I 
am  unjust ;  but  the  horror  of  my  mind  is  such  that 
I  hardly  know  what  I  say.  Tell  me  why  you  did 
not  interfere  if  you  were  displeased  with  this. 
Has  a  master  no  power  over  his  overseer  ?  Of 
whom  are  you  afraid  ? " 

"  It  is  for  the  sake  of  the  poor  people  that  we 
must  be  cautious,  for  the  overseer  must  not  be 
exasperated.  I  assure  you  we  shall  not  keep  such 
a  man  longer  than  we  can  help  ;  but  it  is  difficult 
to  find  a  good  one,  for  the  occupation  brutalizes 
all  ordinary  natures.  We  have  had  an  excellent 
one,  —  a  Frenchman, — but  he  was  called  to  France 
a  week  or  two  since,  to  inherit  some  property,  and 
could  not  wait  for  my  husband  to  supply  his  place, 
as  he  would  have  wished  to  do.  Poor  Carlo  is  my 
husband's  foster-brother,  and  devoted  to  him. 
He  was  never  punished  before.  All  his  family 
are  my  house-servants.  Carlo  was  fleeing  to  his 
master  for  protection  when  this  wretch  caught 
him.  He  called  the  negro  driver  who  is  under 
him  to  whip  Carlo,  but  Carlo  is  Jacobo's  god- 


7o  LA  COXSOLACION: 

father,  and  he  refused  to  do  it ;  so  he  did  it  him 
self,  all  the  more  angrily." 

"  What  had  Carlo  done  ?  "  asked  Helen. 

"Simply  threatened  the  clog  that  bit  him,  they 
say ;  but  Don  Ermite  has  been  much  irritated 
about  his  dogs,  which  have  given  us  a  great  deal  of 
trouble  the  last  two  weeks.  I  have  been  afraid 
to  let  my  children  step  off  the  piazza,  though 
well  trained  dogs  never  snap  at  a  white  skin." 

"Everything  you  say  in  extenuation  only  in 
creases  my  horror.  The  faultless,  faithful  ser 
vants  are  punished  as  if  they  were  the  worst ;  the 
discipline,  as  you  call  it,  would  be  a  cruel  one  for 
beasts  —  are  no  sentiments  ever  addressed  in 
these  people  but  fear  ?  " 

"  Slight  punishments  do  not  subdue  them  ;  they 
only  exasperate  them.  It  is  necessary  to  break 
their  wills,  and  some  of  these  people  have  very 
stubborn  wills,  and  will  even  fight  till  they  are 
subdued." 

"  I  see  more  and  more  horrors  —  " 

"All  would  be  anarchy  and  confusion  on  the 
plantations  if  they  were  not  subdued  ;  but  on 
well  managed  plantations,  as  this  has  been,  defi 
nite  rules  are  established,  and  they  can  escape 
punishment  if  they  obey  them." 

"  If  the  overseer  happens  to  be  a  decent  man, 
you  mean." 

"  Yes,  there  is  that  chance,  and  it  is  a  fearful 
one.  But  they  must  feel  there  is  an  inexorable 


LA   CONSOLACION.  71 

power  over  them,  or  they  would  kill  us  all.  The 
most  faithful  are  not  to  be  trusted  in  extremity. 
How  can  we  expect  them  to  be  faithful  if  they  see 
a  chance  of  liberty  for  themselves  ?  They  might 
not  take  into  account  the  retribution  that  would 
come  upon  them.  Oh,  my  dear  Helen,  I  felt  just 
as  you  do  when  I  first  came  home,  but  I  have, 
resigned  myself  to  necessity.  What  else  can 
women  do  ?  All  I  can  do  is  to  be  as  good  a  mis 
tress  as  I  know  how,  make  no  unreasonable  requi 
sitions,  and  bear  all  the  evils  that  I  see.  My 
house-servants  are  never  punished  when  we  have 
a  good  overseer.  Carlo  is  a  house-servant,  and 
all  his  family  are  in  the  house.  They  do  horrible 
things  sometimes,  but  we  have  to  bear  them  ;  and 
I  never  let  them  have  much  to  do  with  the  chil 
dren.  They  are  beside  themselves  to-night.  I 
am  afraid  that  wicked  overseer  will  punish  them 
all  for  interfering  with  him.  They  undoubtedly 
thought  my  husband  would  interfere." 

"Can  it  not  be  prevented  ?"  exclaimed  Helen, 
shuddering  at  the  thought. 

"I  do  not  know  what  my  husband  can  do  with 
that  creature,"  said  Isabella,  "but,  at  any  rate,  I 
am  afraid  our  good  Jacobo  must  suffer." 

"  Who  is  he  ?  " 

"lie  is  the  negro  driver  who  refused  to  whip 
Carlo  to-night.  He  is  a  good  fellow,  and  must 
have  known  the  danger  to  himself,  though  per 
haps  he  thought  his  master  would  interfere  for 


72  LA    CONSOLACION. 

Carlo.  Carlo  is  his  godfather,  and  he  is  very 
affectionate." 

"  He  must  be  a  hero,  indeed,  if  he  can  risk  such 
a  danger,"  answered  Helen  ;  "  but  cannot  he  be 
saved  ?  Let  us  go  and  see  if  we  cannot  intercede 
for  him.  Has  your  husband  no  authority  whatever 
over  his  household  ?  Pardon  me  for  asking  — 

"  It  will  do  no  good,"  said  Isabella,  sadly. 
"  What  you  have  done  to-night,  my  dear  Helen, 
will  only  make  the  matter  worse  for  somebody. 
Planters  and  overseers  will  not  be  interfered  with. 
Wait  for  me  one  moment ;  do  not  go  to  bed  till  I 
come  back,"  and  the  Marchioness  suddenly  left 
the  room. 

The  request  was  unnecessary.  Sleep  was  never 
farther  from  Helen's  eyelids.  Every  fibre  within 
her  trembled  with  the  excess  of  her  indignation. 
It  was  as  if  the  lake  of  fire  which  some  theolo 
gians  describe  as  the  retribution  for  sin  was  sud 
denly  opened  before  her.  The  lurid  light  that 
shines  from  evil  deeds  sent  a  searching  glance 
into  realms  of  hitherto  unimagined  suffering. 
The  faithful,  trusted,  beloved  servant  was  thus  a 
victim  to  the  uncontrolled  passions  of  man,  with 
out  the  power  of  an  appeal  to  any  earthly  friend 
or  tribunal,  and  God  meddles  not  between  man 
and  man.  The  ocean  that  rolled  between  her  and 
her  bleak  northern  home  looked  to  her  like  an 
interminable  waste  of  waters,  but  one  which  must 
soon  separate  her  from  such  scenes. 


LA    CONSOLACION. 


73 


But,  as  on  a  former  occasion,  the  next  thought 
was,  Is  this  right  ?  Should  not  these  things  be 
known  ?  Perhaps  I  may  be  a  humble  instrument 
for  enlightening  society  upon  this  fearful  topic. 

How  differently  did  the  hooted  and  persecuted 
friends    of    freedom    appear   to    her    now !       She 
respected  them  before  as  well  as  she  knew  how, 
but  how  little  she  had  known  !     They  were,  per 
haps,  not  perfectly  wise  in  all  their  methods,  but 
earnest,  humane,  self-sacrificing.     She  had  dared 
to  criticise  them.     A  new  aspect  of  human  duty 
had    presented  itself  to  her.     She  determined  to 
hush  every  selfish  feeling,  and  look  with  a  keen 
eye  —  a  calm  one,  if  possible  —  into  this  monster 
iniquity.     But  she  must  possess  herself,  and  still 
the   tumult  within    her.     She    could    not    believe 
that  her  friends  were  willing  to  be  cruel,  and  she 
felt  that  she  might  trust  herself  to  do  them  jus 
tice.       She    believed    their   personal    benevolence 
would  make  them   kind   masters  up  to  the  limit 
of  their  possibilities,  but  had  any  one  a  right  to 
remain  in  such  circumstances  ?     And  then  again 
came  the  thought  that  if  there  were  no  humane 
masters,   what   a  pandemonium   earth   would   be ! 
She  could  not  yet  realize  how  the  prejudices  of 
education,  the  weight  of   custom,  and  the  work 
ings  of  self-interest,  blinded  them  to  the  full  sense 
of    the    iniquity  of    such   a   position.      She   hoped 
with  trembling  that  she  might  help  them  to  see 
their  farther  duty. 


74 


LA    CONSOLACION. 


When  Isabella  returned,  she  saw  by  her  coun 
tenance  that  her  mission,  if  it  was  one,  had  been 
unavailing.  The  exasperated  overseer  threatened 
to  leave  the  plantation  the  next  morning  if  inter 
fered  with  any  farther.  Carlo  had  been  bitten  by 
one  of  his  untrained  dogs  as  he  was  crossing  the 
lawn  on  his  way  to  his  cabin,  and  had  uttered  a 
threat  of  revenge  against  it,  which  the  overseer 
overheard.  He  immediately  ordered  the  driver, 
whose  office  it  was  to  execute  his  behests,  to  give 
Carlo  thirty  lashes.  But  Carlo  was  the  master's 
personal  servant  and  his  foster-brother,  petted, 
loved  by  all,  respected  by  the  other  slaves,  the 
godfather  of  all  the  younger  portion  of  them, 
among  whom  was  the  negro  driver  himself,  and 
he  refused.  The  passionate  overseer  seized  the 
lash,  and,  swearing  vengeance  against  Jacobo  for 
disobedience,  inflicted  the  punishment  himself. 
Nothing  would  now  satisfy  him  but  to  wreak  his 
anger  upon  Jacobo.  The  wretched  victims  of 
slavery  are  not  even  allowed  the  sad  privilege  of 
weeping  for  their  suffering  brethren,  except  in 
secret.  The  shrieking  wife  and  frightened  chil 
dren,  who  had  felt  hitherto  that  the  old  husband 
and  father  was  safe  from  punishment,  now  shared 
his  tortures  by  personal  suffering  as  well  as  by 
sympathy.  Can  an  outsider  believe  that  this  had  to 
be  submitted  to  ?  Isabella  had  pleaded  for  the 
negro  children,  and  saved  them,  but  the  old  wife  was 
punished  with  her  husband.  Isabella,  however, 


LA    CONSOLACION.  75 

did  not  tell  Helen  of  this,  but  had  to  confess  that 
the  intercession  she  had  made  for  Jacobo  proved 
ineffectual.  The  Marquis  had  given  his  wife  a 
solemn  promise  that  not  a  day  should  pass  without 
his  seeking  a  substitute  for  this  tyrant.  This, 
however,  was  not  to  be  intimated,  for  if  it  were  not 
done  cautiously  there  was  little  doubt  that  his  life 
would  be  the  sacrifice,  and,  in  the  slave-holder's 
code  of  honor  (I  might'  perhaps  say  his  code  of 
self-interest),  his  overseer's  life  must  be  protected, 
how  many  lives  of  negroes  soever  might  be  sacri 
ficed  to  it. 

"  And  what,"  said  Helen,  "  will  be  the  effect 
upon  the  family  of  household  slaves  ?  Will  it  not 
destroy  the  very  germs  of  that  faithful  devotedness 
which  you  say  has  actuated  them,  to  find  that  you 
are  powerless  to  protect  them  ?  " 

"I  fear  so,  indeed,"  said  the  Marchioness,  "but 
they  have  not  an  unkindness  to  remember  from  me. 
Yet  I  may  not  be  allowed  to  enlighten  them  upon 
the  reasons  why  we  could  not  interfere  to  pre 
vent  this  injustice.  They  must  not  be  let  into 
our  counsels,  for  they  could  not  keep  the  secret. 
Half  these  slaves  are  raw  Africans,  hardly  yet 
broken  into  their  traces  :  and  we  stand  on  a  vol 
cano  if  they  are  not  thoroughly  intimidated  ;  for 
many  belong  to  tribes  that  it  is  very  difficult  to 
reduce  to  slavery.  Carlo  is  a  Congo,  one  of  the 
easiest  tribes  to  govern." 

"  I  cannot  believe  this  is  the  only  way  of  mak 
ing  human  beings  docile,"  said  Helen. 


76 


LA    CONSOLACION. 


"  They  can  hardly  be  called  human  beings,"  said 
Isabella. 

"  And  why  should  they  be?"  said  Helen,  indig 
nantly.  "  Have  they  not  been  robbed  of  them 
selves,  and  treated  like  demons  ?  " 

"  True  ;  we  should  expect  nothing  of  them,  and 
we  do  expect  nothing.  They  cannot  be  trusted. 
We  are  few  against  many,  and  must  convince  them 
of  our  superior  power." 

"  And  yet  you  are  willing  to  live  on  under  such 
a  system  and  bequeath  it  to  your  children,"  replied 
Helen,  with  rising  excitement,  for  she  again  began 
to  take  command  of  herself. 

"Oh,  be  just,  Helen!  Am  I  not  powerless? 
But  I  am  wholly  unnerved  as  well  as  you.  Let  us 
talk  no  more  of  it  to-night.  I  have  nothing  to  say 
in  defence  of  this  wrong  —  only  of  myself.  I  will 
not  leave  you  alone,  but  lie  down  by  your  side. 
Let  us  try  to  sleep  and  be  strengthened  for  the 
morrow.  I  have  given  orders  not  to  be  dis 
turbed." 

Helen  acceded,  and  said  no  more  ;  and  Isabella 
soon  fell  asleep,  but  not  so  Helen.  It  seemed 
to  her  that  sleep  would  never  more  visit  her  tor 
tured  brain  ;  and,  when  she  saw  the  soft  light  of 
dawn  through  the  crevices  of  her  shutters  (for  the 
Cuban  country-houses  rarely  know  the  luxury  of 
glass  windows),  she  quietly  opened  the  door  and 
stepped  out  upon  the  cool  piazza.  All  traces  of  the 
fearful  scene  had  been  carefully  removed.  She 


LA    CONSOLACION. 


77 


descended  the  steps,  but  she  could  not  walk  on 
that  side  of  the  house,  and  turned  the  corner. 
Here,  on  the  other  side  of  the  path,  were  the 
raised  platforms,  of  masonry,  which  served  for 
drying  the  coffee.  Mounting  these,  Helen  walked 
to  cool  her  burning  head  in  the  soft  dews  of  the 
morning,  which  weighed  down  every  leaf.  Be 
yond  these  coffee-driers  stood  the  cabins  of  the 
slaves  —  light  structures  of  bamboo  stakes,  inwoven 
with  the  long  leaves  of  the  cocoa-plant,  now  stiff 
with  age.  As  she  descended  from  these  driers, 
and  passed  the  nearest  dwelling,  stifled  sobs  struck 
her  ear,  and,  trembling  with  her  suspicions,  but 
irresistibly  impelled  by  sympathy,  she  pushed  open 
the  door,  which  stood  ajar.  Stretched  on  the  bare 
earth,  with  but  a  small  blanket  under  each,  lay  the 
victims  of  the  last  night's  brutality ;  with  the 
exception  of  the  poor  old  man,  who  had  been  taken 
to  the  hospital,  which  is  prepared  for  the  reception 
of  such  victims,  who  often  do  not  emerge  from  it 
for  many  weeks.  A  tall  negress,  with  a  counte 
nance  expressive  of  much  dignity  as  well  as  of  the 
deepest  sorrow,  was  tenderly  bathing  the  wounds 
of  the  sufferers.  At  first  Helen's  knees  trembled 
under  her,  and  her  senses  reeled  again  with  horror  ; 
but  the  next  moment  she  was  on  her  knees,  join 
ing  in  the  humane  service,  and  assisting  the  soli 
tary  attendant  in  her  charitable  work.  The  poor 
wife  of  Carlo  fixed  her  wondering  eyes  upon  Miss 
Wentworth's  face,  but  their  grateful  expression 


78  LA    CONSOLACION. 

changed  instantly  to  one  of  terror  when  Helen 
inquired  for  Carlo.  "  In  the  hospital,  and  my 
husband  too,"  said  the  negress  in  attendance,  who 
was  the  wife  of  the  negro  driver,  "  but  you  must 
not  stay  here,  lady,"  she  said  to  her,  in  the  same 
language  as  that  in  which  Helen  had  addressed 
her.  Her  fast-falling  tears  called  forth  those  of 
the  poor  woman,  who  threw  herself  upon  the 
ground,  wailing  piteously.  Carlo's  wife  motioned 
to  Helen  to  go,  and,  startled  by  the  expression  of 
her  face,  Helen  instantly  obeyed,  and  darted  from 
the  cabin,  regaining  the  driers  as  quickly  as 
possible;  and,  hoping  no  one  had  seen  her,  she 
entered  her  room  softly,  and  took  her  place  by  the 
side  of  Isabella,  who  still  slept. 


CHAPTER   V. 

THE    DOGS. 

ISABELLA  was  still  sleeping,  but  not  quietly. 
Helen  lay  down  by  her  side,  and  resolved  to  keep 
her  own  counsel,  if  possible.  Exhausted  by 
weariness,  strong  emotion,  and  want  of  sleep,  she 
soon  lost  herself,  and  when  she  awoke  the  sun 
was  riding  high  in  the  heavens,  and  she  was 
alone. 

As  she  stood  at  her  dressing-table,  Helen  again 
caught  the  outline  of  the  Berkshire  hills  on  the 
wall.  It  riveted  her  gaze.  Two  years  spent  in 
France  with  her  father,  before  returning  to  the 
island,  had  given  the  Marchioness  the  oppor 
tunity  of  becoming  conversant  with  other  works 
of  art  than  her  own,  and  her  native  genius  had 
developed  wonderfully,  so  that  Helen,  who  had 
given  her  her  first  childish  lessons  in  painting,  felt 
herself  wholly  distanced  in  skill ;  and  she  was  now 
breathless  with  admiration.  The  beloved  hills ! 
the  land  of  liberty!  .She  could  have  knelt  to 
them. 

A  plate  of  fresh  oranges,  nicely  peeled,  stood 
on  the  table  at  her  side,  and,  refreshed  by  their 

79 


80  THE   DOGS. 

cooling  juices,  she  dressed  and  went  out  to  seek 
her  friends. 

What  a  contrast  was  this  day  to  the  scene  of 
the  preceding  evening!  Isabella  and  her  husband 
were  pacing  the  piazza,  and  the  former  greeted 
her  with  the  affection  of  a  sister,  but  she  fancied 
she  perceived  some  constraint  in  the  salutation  of 
the  Marquis,  who  had  received  her  so  cordially  the 
night  before.  One  fine  boy  of  six  was  standing  by 
the  door,  with  eyes  swollen  with  weeping ;  two  beau 
tiful  little  girls  were  playing  with  a  little  dog,  and 
they  looked  at  Helen  with  wondering  eyes,  but 
when  their  mother  told  them  this  was  Aunt  Helen, 
whom  she  had  been  so  long  expecting,  they  began 
to  smile  upon  her,  and  when  Helen  told  them  she 
had  seen  them  before,  a  sweet  little  four-year-old 
thing  held  out  her  arms  to  be  taken  up,  and  asked 
her  if  she  would  talk  English  with  her,  —  Mrs. 
Warwick  and  Ludovico  had  taught  her  to  say 
some  things  in  English.  Helen  made  many 
promises,  and  was  soon  intimate  with  these  little 
ones,  who  were  not  strangers  to  her,  and  many 
of  whose  childish  sayings  had  been  the  theme  of 
their  mother's  letters. 

The  children  of  the  Marchioness  of  Rodriguez 
had  not  been  trained,  as  most  of  the  children  of 
slave-countries  are,  by  negro  nurses,  but,  with  good 
Mrs.  Warwick's  help,  their  mother  had  trained 
them  herself,  and  presided  even  over  their  baths 
and  their  meals,  —  for  Isabella  had  brought  with 


THE  DOGS.  8 1 

her,  from  her  old  New  England  life,  impressions 
and  principles  regarding  the  education  of  children 
that  her  Cuban  life  had  never  corrupted.  Helen's 
good  aunt  had  always  presided  over  her  morning 
toilet  and  her  retiring  hour  for  the  night,  not 
trusting  hirelings  in  those  trying  scenes  and 
precious  hours  of  children's  days. 

It  is  usual  for  each  child  in  a  well-to-do  family 
in  Cuba  to  have  its  special  nurse,  and  much  of 
its  character  is  determined  by  its  "mumma,"  as 
the  negro  nurse  is  called  ;  but  no  such  function 
existed  here.  Mrs.  Warwick  was  the  other  mother, 
and  she  was  a  stanch  New  England  woman,  of 
the  best  type.  But  Manuel  had  always  had  his 
morning  ride  on  old  Carlo's  head,  when  the  latter 
went  to  feed  his  pig,  —  that  cherished  object  of  a 
negro's  affections,  because  the  only  thing,  except 
his  chickens,  that  he  really  owns.  He  did  not 
own  his  wife  or  his  children  ;  but  he  did  own  his 
pig  and  his  chickens,  and  had  the  disposal  of  the 
money  for  which  he  could  sell  them.  That 
money  went  into  the  little  fund  that  a  thoughtful 
slave  always  hoards,  secretly,  towards  the  making 
up  of  the  five  hundred  dollars  that  can  legally  buy 
his  freedom.  The  fact  that  everything  that  can 
be  done  to  prevent  its  accumulation  is  done,  does 
not  discourage  the  slave  from  the  attempt  to 
gather  it ;  nor  the  fact  of  the  few  cases  in  which 
they  are  successful.  But  this  is  a  digression.  It 
was  not  the  selfish  loss  of  a  pleasure,  merely,  that 


82  THE  DOGS. 

wrung  Manuel's  heart  this  morning,  but  the  cruel 
wrong  that  had  been  clone  to  Carlo,  whom  he 
really  loved,  and  about  which  he  knew  enough  to 
demand  the  relation  of  the  whole,  which  his 
mother  had  reluctantly  given.  The  little  girls 
had  been  more  easily  put  aside,  and  he  was 
charged  not  to  tell  them  what  he  knew.  It  was 
Manuel's  first  unselfish  sorrow,  and  the  little  girls 
had  in  vain  endeavored  to  comfort  him,  or  to 
ascertain  the  cause  of  his  trouble  other  than  the 
disappointment  about  his  morning  pastime.  He 
had  consoled  himself  as  far  as  possible  by  feeding 
Carlo's  pig  with  corn  and  oranges,  reserving  a 
huge  orange,  which  he  carried  under  his  arm,  for 
Carlo,  and  was  waiting  with  what  patience  he 
could  till  his  mother  was  ready  to  prepare  Carlo's 
portion,  in  which  she  had  promised  that  it  should 
be  an  ingredient.  She  always  attended  person 
ally  to  the  rations  for  the  hospital,  and,  in  ordi 
nary  cases  of  illness,  Manuel  always  accompanied 
her  in  her  visitations  to  the  hospital;  but  she 
could  not  take  him  in  cases  of  punishment,  with 
out  revealing  too  much  of  the  fearful  arcana  of 
slavery. 

"  Do  you  know  what  is  the  matter  with  Man 
uel  ? "  whispered  Pepita  to  Helen  ;  "  he  will  not 
tell  me."  "I  think  he  is  cross,"  said  Louise. 
"Oh,  no!  he  says  he  is  unhappy,  and  that  people 
don't  like  to  be  talked  to  when  they  are  unhappy," 
and  Pepita's  little  eyes  filled  with  tears.  Helen 


THE  DOGS.  83 

could  not  restrain  her  own,  as  she  pressed  the 
little  darling  in  her  arms,  whose  musical  voice  in 
broken  English  sympathized  so  deeply  with  the 
unknown  sorrow. 

"  I  wish  everybody  would  not  cry  !  "  burst  from 
Pepita,  as  she  broke  into  a  passionate  fit  of 
weeping. 

"  Mama  cried,  too,  when  she  dressed  me,"  said 
Louise,  who,  though  of  more  sturdy  mood,  was 
not  proof  against  the  general  depression.  Man 
uel's  tears  began  to  flow  afresh. 

"  Let  us  all  try  to  make  each  other  happy,"  said 
Helen,  making  a  strong  effort  over  herself ;  "  if 
every  one  would  do  that,  no  one  in  the  whole 
world  would  be  unhappy.  What  is  your  little 
dog's  name  ?  He  does  not  like  to  see  people  look 
sad.  Dogs  always  know  when  people  are  un 
happy.  Let  us  have  a  little  frolic  with  him." 
Helen  caught  an  orange  from  the  buffet,  and 
rolled  it  across  the  floor.  The  little  girls,  whose 
sympathy  with  the  afflicted  was  indefinite  though 
real,  were  soon  absorbed  in  the  frolic.  But  Man 
uel  walked  away  ;  he  could  not  bear  it.  Relieved 
from  his  depressing  presence,  the  children  soon 
recovered  their  spirits,  and  played  horses  on  their 
long  Guinea-grasses  without  him. 

The  Marquis  had  retired  to  his  own  apartment, 
and  Isabella  silently  seated  herself  at  her  work- 
table,  grateful  to  Helen  for  the  relief  her  care  of 
the  children  afforded  her. 


84  THE   DOGS. 

At  this  moment  an  old  negress,  with  preternat- 
urally  active  motions,  bustled  into  the  hall,  and 
began  to  dust  the  furniture,  lifting  up  the  heavy 
chairs,  and  setting  them  down  again  with  a  great 
noise. 

"  Ah,  Camilla,"  said  the  Marchioness,  a  little 
impatiently,  "  I  thought  you  had  done  dusting." 

"Ave,  Maria!  oh,  no,  la  Marquisa,  not  yet ;  poor 
Jacobo !  — poor  Carlo !  — poor  Maria!  —  Ave,  Maria! 
good  morning,  miss  "  (in  English),  courtesying  to 
Helen  —  "good  lady"  (in  Spanish),  "ah,  the 
dogs  !  —  the  dogs,  lady  !  —  French  ladies  walk  !  — 
poor  Carlo!  —  poor  Jacobo!"  —  and  Camilla  con 
tinued  to  go  round  and  round  the  room,  venting  her 
excitement  upon  the  chairs  and  tables  and  every 
article  upon  the  large  buffet,  which  she  dusted 
over  and  over  again. 

"Take  care,  Camilla!  you  will  break  the  guard- 
abrisas,"  said  the  Marchioness,  "  and  those  deli 
cate  little  .vases  !  do  not  touch  them  again  !  —  you 
have  moved  them  all  once  —  do  you  hear  me, 
Camilla?  let  the  things  alone!"  for  as  her  lady 
remonstrated  the  clatter  increased  rather  than 
diminished.  "Ah,  yes!  pupil  of  my  eyes!  much 
dust,  much  dust !  —  poor  Carlo  !  —  poor  Jacobo  !  — 
the  Marquis,  the  Marquis  walks  —  the  Marquis 
walks  too  fast — the  Marquis  walks  in  the  night  — 
the  Marquis  does  not  sleep  —  the  Marquis  should 
sleep — my  lady  slept  a  little  —  the  young  lady 
had  better  not  walk  —  the  dos;s  —  the  dogs  —  the 


THE  DOGS.  85 

young  lady  must  not  walk  alone  —  good  lady  — 
good  lady  —  the  dogs,  my  lady,  the  dogs  !" 

"What  does  she  mean,  Helen?"  said  Isabella, 
in  English.  "  I  went  out  upon  the  driers  last 
night,  while  you  were  sleeping,  to  cool  my  head," 
said  Helen,  aware  that  she  had  been  seen. 

As  she  spoke,  Camilla  stopped  short,  and  listened 
intently,  pretending  to  be  attending  to  something 
out-of-doors. 

"You  must  not  do  that,  dear!  —  those  dogs 
might  attack  you  !  " 

Camilla  shook  her  head.  "  The  dogs  —  the  dogs, 
my  lady  —  the  French  ladies  walk,  oh,  yes  !  " 

"  Which  way  did  you  walk  ? "  said  Isabella. 
Camilla  crossed  her  bony  fingers  over  her  breast, 
and  listened  intently  again. 

"  You  have  dusted  enough,  Camilla,"  said  her 
mistress  ;  "  you  can  go  now." 

Camilla  reluctantly  walked  away,  but  soon 
returned  to  pick  up  her  duster,  which  she  had, 
probably,  dropped  designedly.  Helen  waited 
before  replying,  and,  after  adjusting  one  or  two 
chairs  again,  the  old  crone  went  away,  and,  seizing 
a  bunch  of  brush,  began  sweeping  the  path  before 
the  steps,  evidently  wishing  to  hear  more. 

"  Camilla  pretends  not  to  understand  English," 
said  Isabella,  "  but  we  are  sure  that  she  does. 
Wait  till  she  is  fairly  out  of  sight  before  you  answer 
my  question." 

This    was    what    Helen   was    doing,   and,    after 


86  THE    DOGS. 

raising  the  dust  before  the  house  pretty  effectu 
ally  with  her  broom,  Camilla  finally  disappeared. 

"  I  walked  a  little  way  down  one  of  the  avenues," 
said  Helen,  as  calmly  as  she  could. 

"  Did  you  see  any  one  ?  " 

"I  did  not  see  Camilla,"  said  Helen.  "She 
seems  a  privileged  character." 

"  She  is,  indeed  ;  but  tell  me  whom  you  saw, 
dear ;  and,  for  the  love  of  Heaven,  do  not  go  out 
alone  !  That  wretch  would  kill  you  if  he  could,  and 
you  must  not  interfere,  dear  Helen,  — promise  me 
that  you  will  not !  " 

"Oh,  I  will  not,  indeed,"  said  Helen;  "I  see 
that  we  are  all  slaves.  I  looked  into  a  cabin  from 
which  I  heard  sobbing,  but  they  warned  me  away 
immediately,  and  I  hastened  home." 

"I  told  the  man  in  charge  last  night  to  leave  the 
door  of  Carlo's  cabin  open  for  air,  that  his  poor 
wife  might  have  the  refreshment  of  it,  and  Jacobo's 
wife  wanted  to  stay  with  her.  Usually  they  are 
all  locked  in.  I  hope  no  harm  will  come  of  your 
looking  in  there.  This  creature  must  have  heard 
you  go  out,  or  have  been  prowling  round  there 
herself.  I  do  not  know  how  she  could  get  out,  or 
how  she  dared  to,  but  they  have  their  own  ways  of 
circumventing  us." 

"  My  dear  Isabella,  do  forgive  me  ;  I  will  make 
no  more  ventures.  I  see  that  I  did  wrong,  but  it 
is  so  hard  to  learn  about  such  different  customs 
that  perhaps  you  can  forgive  me.  Heaven  grant 


THE  DOGS.  87 

that  I  have  brought  no  one  else  into  trouble.  I  do 
not  know  but  it  would  kill  me  if  I  thought  I  had." 

"  I  think  Camilla  could  have  had  only  a  good 
will  in  warning  you,"  said  Isabella,  "and  she 
knows  enough  to  know  that  it  would  be  dangerous 
to  herself  if  it  were  known  that  she  was  out,  so  I 
trust  there  will  be  no  consequences  to  your  impru 
dence  ;  but  you  must  be  prudent,  dear." 

"  I  will  be, —  but  don't  you  think  the  negress  who 
warned  me  away  might  have  told  Camilla  with  the 
purpose  of  giving  me  a  warning  through  her  ?  It 
was  Carlo's  wife,  and  she  could  have  had  no  desire 
to  injure  me." 

"  You  are  right,  and  I  think  that  must  explain  it. 
Camilla  has  seen  them  this  morning,  for  I  sent  her 
there." 

This  calmed  Helen's  fears,  and  she  resumed  her 
play  with  the  children,  who  had  begun  to  listen, 
and  were  troubled  by  the  interruption.  But  it 
was  difficult  to  rally  herself  as  the  horrors  and 
dangers  about  her  accumulated,  and  she  soon  told 
her  friend  that  she  would  try  to  go  to  sleep,  for 
she  was  not  fit  company  for  the  children. 

Just  at  this  moment,  Carlito  appeared,  led  in 
fresh  and  blooming  by  the  good  Mrs.  Warwick, 
who  had  watched  for  his  awakening,  and  dressed 
him  with  her  own  hand. 

It  was  the  first  time  any  one  had  done  this  but 
his  own  dear  mama  and  his  slave-nurse,  from 
whose  affectionate  but  uncultivated  ministrations 


88  THE  DOGS. 

he  had,  unhappily,  not  been  saved.  Carlito,  who 
was  only  six  years  old,  was  very  precocious,  and,  in 
spite  of  his  inheritance,  a  lovely  child.  He  was 
his  mother's  boy,  and  thus  far,  at  least,  the  hard 
heart  of  his  father  had  not  shown  itself  in  him. 
Happily,  the  father  was  rarely  at  home  long,  and 
Carlito's  little  life  had  been  passed  in  kindly  offices 
to  the  poor  victims  of  pillage  and  oppression,  who 
were  well  treated  in  his  father's  home,  not  from 
motives  of  humanity,  but  purely  from  self-interest. 
Carlito  was  not  yet  old  enough  to  understand  this, 
but  he  had  just  taken  one  degree,  and  as  soon  as 
he  learned  that  there  had  been  a  punishment  of  a 
slave  on  the  plantation,  he  too  looked  grave  and 
preoccupied.  Children  invariably  sympathize  with 
"the  people,"  so  far  as  not  to  betray  them  ;  and  it 
is  their  first  lesson  in  disingenuousness,  but  evi 
dently  sanctified  to  them  by  the  motive  that  in 
spires  it.  The  innocent  prattle  of  the  little  girls 
charmed  him  into  frequent  smiles  and  sallies,  and 
it  was  not  long  before  he  too  had  a  Guinea-grass 
horse  and  trotted  down  the  piazza  with  his  steed. 
The  Rodriguez  children  were  never  left  in  their 
babyhood  without  the  superintendence  of  their 
mother  or  their  nurse.  Manuel  had  but  lately 
emerged  from  the  nursery  to  ride  with  his  father 
and  Ludovico,  who  were  equally  careful  to  keep 
him  from  contaminating  exposure.  It  takes  but  a 
word  or  two  of  an  uncultivated  nurse  to  put  an 
image  into  the  mind  of  a  child,  as  Helen  was  made 


THE  DOGS.  89 

aware  that  day,  when  Carlito  asked  her  why  that 
lady  up  in  the  sky,  that  took  care  of  God,  did  not 
take  care  of  Dolores  and  Pedro,  whose  fate  still 
weighed  upon  his  spirits. 

"  When  I  asked  mama,  she  cried,  and  when  I 
asked  Tulita  she  said  I  must  not  talk  so.  I  should 
not  think  God  needed  to  be  taken  care  of,  but  I 
think  people  do  sometimes." 

"  My  darling'  boy,  who  told  you  a  lady  in  the  sky 
took  care  of  God  ?  " 

"  Francisca  told  me." 

"Who  is  Francisca  ?" 

"  Francisca  is  my  nurse." 

"  Is  she  a  kind  nurse  ?  " 

"  Yes,  kindissimo,"  said  Carlito,  if  we  may  trans 
late  literally  his  strong  expression. 

"  My  dear  Carlito,  Francisca  may  be  very  kind, 
but  she  is  very  ignorant  —  you  must  not  believe  all 
she  says." 

"  She  says  Padre  Jean  told  her  so." 

"  Did  you  quite  believe  it  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  thought  Padre  Jean  would  know." 

Helen  could  hardly  rally  her  thoughts  to  answer 
such  searching  questions,  but  she  felt  how  impor 
tant  it  was  to  Carlito,  in  the  present  state  of  his 
feelings. 

"  Oh,  if  men  only  understood  how  to  be  kind  to 
other  men,  always,  then  they  would  understand 
God  better.  God  is  not  a  man  like  us,  dear  ;  he 
does  not  need  to  be  taken  care  of.  Francisca  is 


9o 


THE  DOGS, 


so  ignorant  she  could  not  understand  what  Padre 
Jean  meant.  The  people  who  go  to  church  here 
call  Jesus  Christ  God,  and  he  was  so  good  there  is 
no  wonder  that  they  should  think  he  was  the 
same,  but  he  was  the  son  of  God,  as  you  are,  and 
the  Madonna  was  his  mother.  He  was  good  to 
every  one  —  he  would  not  have  owned  a  slave, 
because  he  would  have  thought  every  one  must 
own  himself  and  could  take  care  of  himself  as  God 
made  him  to  do,  if  no  one  prevents  him.  Christ 
taught  men  that  they  must  love  all  men  as  if  they 
were  their  own  brothers,  and  if  they  did  there 
would  not  be  any  slaves.  We  must  all  try  to  be 
as  much  like  the  good  Christ  as  we  can.  I  should 
not  like  to  be  a  slave  ;  would  you  ?" 

"  No,  indeed  ;  but  Tulita  says  it  does  them  good 
to  be  brought  here,  and  papa  says  so  too." 

"  It  might  do  them  good,  if  people  would  treat 
them  kindly  and  teach  them  something." 

"  Won't  you  let  me  go  home  with  you  when  you 
go,"  said  Carlito  ;  "  Tulita  says  there  are  no  slaves 
in  your  country." 

"  There  are  none  in  the  part  of  America  where 
I  live,  but  in  another  part  there  are,"  Helen  re 
plied,  sadly. 

"  I  wish  I  was  dead,"  said  poor  Carlito,  who 
saw  no  way  out  of  his  misery,  and  he  began 
to  cry. 

Helen  drew  him  into  her  lap,  and  told  him  that 
perhaps  he  could  do  some  good  to  the  poor  slaves 


THE   DOGS.  QI 

when  he  grew  older.  "Once,"  she  added,  "there 
were  slaves  in  New  England,  where  I  live,  but  the 
people  there  gave  them  all  their  liberty,  and  then 
they  went  to  school  and  became  as  good  as  any 
one  else,  and,  even  in  that  part  of  my  country 
where  there  are  still  .slaves,  people  sometimes  set 
all  theirs  free  and  send  them  away  where  they  can 
be  happier.  When  I  first  came  here  and  saw  a 
man  punished,  I  thought  I  could  not  stay,  but 
must  go  right  home  again  ;  and  then  I  thought  to 
myself,  '  No,  I  will  stay  and  learn  all  about  slavery, 
and  perhaps  when  I  go  home  I  can  make  more 
people  give  liberty  to  their  slaves.  Now,  perhaps 
you  can  do  a  great  deal  of  good  when  you  grow 
up,  and  I  would  think  of  that  rather  than  of  the 
sufferings  you  see.  I  think  your  mother  will  send 
you  out  of  this  unhappy  country  when  you  are  old 
enough  to  take  care  of  yourself  —  that  is  what 
Manuel's  mother  means  to  do." 

"  Oh,  that  would  be  good.  I'll  try  to  wait  for 
that." 

"And  let  us  go  now,"  said  Helen,  "and  find 
Manuel,  and  try  to  make  him  feel  happier,  for  he 
has  seen  a  kind  servant  punished  when  he  did  not 
deserve  it,  and  is  very  unhappy  about  it  —  as  un 
happy  as  you  are  about  Dolores  and  Pedro." 

A  fresh  burst  of  sorrow  was  his  answer,  but  he 
was  soon  ready  to  go  to  find  Manuel ;  and,  when 
they  went  out  upon  the  piazza.,  Manuel's  pretty 
pony  stood  by  the  steps,  and  Ludovico  and  an- 


92 


THE  DOGS. 


other  horse  were  also  waiting  to  give  Carlito  his 
first  ride. 

"You  shall  ride  my  pony,"  said  Manuel,  "for 
he  is  very  gentle,  and  if  you  should  fall  off  he  is 
so  low  that  it  would  not  hurt  you." 

"  I  will  walk  you  round  at  first,"  said  Ludovico, 
who  saw  that  Carlito  was  a  little  timid. 

Thus  reassured,  Carlito  allowed  himself  to  be 
placed  upon  the  pony,  and  a  happy  hour  or  two 
passed  with  this  experiment,  so  that  he  returned 
in  good  spirits,  and  played  cheerfully  with  the 
little  girls.  In  the  afternoon  they  all  went  to 
drive  with  the  nurse,  Manuel  and  Ludovico  ac 
companying  them  on  horseback,  and  nothing  was 
said  of  the  late  sad  event,  for  the  Marchioness 
had  prohibited  all  farther  mention  of  it  before 
the  children,  enjoining  silence  especially  upon 
Camilla,  on  pain  of  being  expelled  from  the  house. 
Camilla  knew  very  well  that  the  housekeeping 
could  not  go  on  without  her,  but  by  keeping  to 
the  letter  of  the  law  she  found  many  opportunities 
to  give  expression  to  her  excited  feelings.  We 
will  hope  she  did  not  enjoy  the  catastrophe  too 
much,  but  the  jealousies  between  household  slaves 
are  only  held  in  check  by  the  fear  of  severe  pun 
ishment.  The  rule  of  the  plantation  is  that  if 
any  strife  occurs  between  them,  both  parties  are 
punished,  without  any  questions  being  asked. 
There  is  not  even  an  attempt  at  judgment. 
Earlier  in  life,  Camilla  had  had  her  share  of  suf- 


THE   DOGS. 


93 


faring  from  this  cause,  for  her  domineering  spirit 
needed  to  be  checked  in  the  bud.  At  present  the 
quarry  at  which  she  struck  was  one  far  above  her, 
where  she  knew  she  should  not  meet  with  the 
retaliation  she  deserved. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

THE    MARCHIONESS. 

THE  Marchioness  of  Rodriguez  had  spent  most 
of  her  childhood  in  the  United  States.  A  good 
education  for  a  young  girl  was  unattainable  in 
Cuba  at  that  time,  especially  upon  the  plantations, 
which  were  not  connected  wi.ih  the  cities  even  by 
highways  passable  at  all  seasons,  and  no  judicious 
parents  would  send  their  daughters  to  the  board 
ing-schools  or  convents  of  the  city.  The  usual 
custom  was  to  hire  men  to  instruct  in  families, 
and  these  were  in  so  subordinate  and  toadyish  a 
relation  to  the  family  that  they  could  only  be 
called  upper  servants.  They  were  expected  to 
perform  many  services  besides  teaching,  and  were 
in  no  position  to  command  respect  from  the 
young.  They  were  also,  very  frequently,  sourcer 
of  absolute  corruption.  American  governesses 
were  not  then,  as  later,  the  fashion. 

The  mother  of  Isabella  was  not  qualified  to  give 
or  even  superintend  such  an  education  as  her 
father  was  desirous  of  affording  her.  He  had 
been  educated  partly  in  Spain,  partly  at  a  poly 
technic  school  in  France,  where  his  native  mathe 
matical  tendencies  were  stimulated.  He  had 

94 


THE  MARCHIONESS. 


95 


tasted  the  pleasures  of  knowledge  sufficiently  to 
crave  it  for  his  only  child,  and  even  had  an  ambi 
tion  that  she  should  be  one  of  the  women  whose 
names  were  known  in  the  intellectual  world.  He 
had  not  experience  enough  to  know  that  only 
peculiar  circumstances  like  those  of  some  famous 
French  women,  Madame  cle  Stae'l  and  Madame 
Roland  for  instance,  were  the  educating  forces 
that  brought  women  occasionally  to  the  front,  and 
that  the  rule  must  be  mediocrity  while  education 
for  women  remained  on  so  low  a  plane  as  the  usual 
one.  Even  Fenelon  thought  it  best  for  women 
not  to  know  too  much. 

Modern  science  was  unknown  in  Spain,  but 
Napoleon  had  opened  the  way  to  it  in  France,  and 
the  Marquis  of  Ramonte  was  imaginative.  He 
was  induced  to  send  his  daughter  to  Philadelphia 
by  the  fame  of  a  certain  boarding-school  where 
other  Spanish  maidens  had  been  placed,  and  had 
returned  home  able  to  speak  a  little  French,  which 
really  stood  for  education  in  those  days,  not  to  say 
in  later  ones.  There  his  child  learned  English  by 
the  natural  process,  enough  French  to  prattle  it  a 
little,  embroidery,  dancing,  a  little  arithmetic,  a 
few  geographical  items,  and  a  good  deal  of  fash 
ionable  nonsense. 

Helen  Wentworth,  left  an  orphan  at  fifteen,  was 
sent  to  the  same  school  by  a  New  York  aunt  into 
whose  care  she  fell,  and  whose  highest  idea  of 
education  was  fashionable  manners  and  French. 


96 


THE  MARCHIONESS. 


Philadelphia  was  the  only  city  at  that  time  where 
the  two  things  were  supposed  to  be  combined  in 
the  same  institution,  and  Madame  Lc  Blanc's  fame 
was  widespread,  for  she  was  a  good  woman,  and 
gained  the  affections  of  her  pupils,  the  surest  pass 
port  to  their  intellects. 

Helen  Wentworth  was  a  Massachusetts  girl, 
and  the  child  of  an  educator  who  had  advanced 
ideas  upon  that  subject,  so  that  her  daughter  was 
put  in  possession  of  her  faculties  early  in  life,  and 
nurtured  upon  the  trials,  sacrifices,  and  conquests 
of  the  early  Pilgrim  history,  which  has  made  New 
England  what  it  is.  Helen's  more  puritanical 
manners  and  higher  culture  had  developed  a  supe 
rior  nature,  which  even  a  French  boarding-school 
could  not  fritter  away.  She  soon  became  deeply 
interested  in  the  little  Spanish  stranger,  whom 
she  begged  for  a  room-mate,  and  over  whom  she 
watched  with  sisterly  care  during  her  three  years' 
residence  there.  In  the  summer  vacations  she 
was  even  allowed  to  take  her  to  the  home  of  a 
Massachusetts  uncle  who  lived  among  the  Berk 
shire  hills,  where  they  spent  happy  holidays,  run 
ning  freely  over  hill  and  dale,  and  drinking  in  the 
spirit  of  freedom  and  independence  which  charac 
terizes  northern  society  wherever  it  is  lucky 
enough  to  escape  the  narrowing  effects  of  a 
bigoted  creed,  which  it  happily  did  in  this  case, 
for  Helen's  family  circle  had  emancipated  itself 
from  that  bondage. 


THE  MARCHIONESS. 


97 


When  Helen  finally  left  Madame  Le  Blanc's 
school,  she  took  the  position  of  a  teacher  in  a 
New  England  establishment,  and  the  Marquis  of 
Ramonte  was  but  too  glad  to  place  his  daughter 
under  her  care.  The  bond  of  affection  between 
them  was  an  indissoluble  one,  and  when  Isabella, 
at  the  age  of  eighteen,  returned  to  her  father,  her 
mother  having  died  while  she  was  in  the  States, 
Helen  promised  to  visit  her  before  many  years 
should  elapse.  Circumstances  had  prevented  the 
fulfilment  of  this  promise  till  now,  and  the  inter 
vening  years  had  been  passed  in  severe  and  useful 
duties,  which  had  strengthened  and  deepened  her 
character.  Afflictions  graver  than  bereavements 
of  friends  had  purified  and  ennobled  her  affections, 
but  had  somewhat  impaired  her  health  ;  and  she 
resolved  to  recruit  her  forces  by  a  visit  to  her 
friend,  with  whom  she  had,  meantime,  kept  up  a 
lively  correspondence  in  both  languages. 

Isabella  had  become  a  wife  and  a  mother,  and 
her  outward  and  inward  life  were  known  to  her 
friend  as  far  as  the  exchange  of  letters  could  make 
either  known,  but  Helen  found  herself  in  a  new 
world,  whose  very  forms  of  thought  varied  from 
those  of  her  own  corner  of  creation  as  much  as  the 
features  of  the  scenery  around  her.  Vegetation 
clothed  the  earth  there  as  here,  but  here  its  rank 
luxuriance,  where  untamed,  typified  the  unbridled 
sweep  of  human  propensities,  while  the  curbs  and 
restraints  that  a  certain  measure  of  civilization  im- 


98 


THE   MARCHIONESS. 


posed  upon  it  only  concealed  the  fens  and  marshes 
that  were  the  product  of  a  decay  as  pestiferous  to 
the  physical  as  the  corruptions  of  the  heaven-born 
passions  are  to  the  moral  atmosphere.  Life  had 
given  Helen  an  early  maturity,  that  made  her  in 
stinctively  weigh  all  shows  in  a  just  balance,  and, 
without  destroying  her  faith  in  man's  high  destiny, 
which  was  anchored  upon  a  rock,  she  keenly  sep 
arated  the  true  from  the  false  in  her  estimate  of 
values.  Her  own  intimate  history  was  of  a  nature 
not  to  be  communicated  to  the  nearest  friend,  for 
her  highest  happiness  was  denied  earthly  form, 
but  the  consecration  of  her  affections  was  such  as 
to  act  reflectively  for  the  happiness  of  others,  and 
she  sometimes  felt  as  if  she  were  looking  on  life 
as  a  disembodied  spirit  might  look  upon  it,  inter 
ested  in  it,  but  no  longer  of  it. 

When  Isabella  first  returned  to  Cuba,  she  was 
plunged  into  scenes  and  modes  of  life  which  she 
had  wholly  forgotten,  and  with  which  time  only 
made  her  familiar  again.  If  it  had  not  been  for 
her  constant  intercourse  with  Helen,  her  American 
life  might  have  become  to  her  as  a  dream,  but  it 
had  been  passed  at  a  susceptible  age  ;  the  bent 
had  been  given  to  her  character,  and  its  beneficent 
influences  had  been  perpetuated  by  the  friendship 
she  had  formed,  and  the  fact  that  Helen  had  con 
tinued  to  be  the  sole  repositary  of  her  new  life. 

Her  father  had  felt  the  growing  distaste  to  the 
thought  of  slavery  when  he  had  visited  her  from 


THE   MARCHIONESS. 


99 


time  to  time,  although  it  was  before  the  days  when 
that  subject  was  specifically  agitated  in  the  States, 
and  when  she  returned  to  him  he  carefully  guarded 
her  from  the  worst  aspects  of  it.  When  she  mar 
ried  the  Marquis  of  Rodriguez,  he  favored  her  in 
the  same  manner.  Both  the  father  and  the  hus 
band  were  kind  masters,  up  to  the  average  of  a 
slave-holder's  possibility,  and  had  seen  enough  of 
European  life  to  be  willing  to  disguise  the  most 
revolting  aspects  of  slavery  to  Isabella.  And 
Isabella  soon  learned  not  to  inquire  too  curiously. 

It  is  astonishing  to  observe  how  people  can  shade 
their  own  eyes  from  what  is  around  them.  But 
Isabella's  heart  was  a  tender  and  true  one.  She 
was  a  conscientious  and  considerate  mistress,  sacri 
ficing  much  of  her  comfort  and  convenience 
rather  than  recurring  to  her  overseer  for  aid  when 
her  people  tried  her  patience  and  even  endurance, 
as  they  often  did.  This  leniency  subjected  her  to 
many  impositions,  but  she  soon  surrounded  herself 
with  affectionate  servants,  made  so  by  her  kind 
ness.  She  had  grown  up  a  Protestant,  not  of  the 
protesting  kind,  for  she  had  been  educated  among 
liberal-minded  Americans,  who  valued  the  substance 
of  religion  as  exemplified  in  the  life,  rather  than 
its  forms  and  creeds. 

When  children  came  to  her,  she  taught  them  to 
feel,  because  she  felt  it,  that  every  child  has  a 
heavenly  endowment  that  can  make  him  a  Christ 
child  in  his  own  sphere  if  he  but  obeys  his  con- 


IOO 


THE   MARCHIONESS. 


science,  which  is  the  voice  of  God  within  him. 
This  is  all  the  religious  instruction  children  need, 
and  is  adapted  to  every  emergency  of  their  lives, 
as  this  good  mother  found. 

After  Isabella  became  a  mother,  she  gave  up  the 
half-yearly  city  life  which  is  customary  with  every 
planter  who  can  afford  to  spend  the  winter  in  the 
city,  and  her  husband  yielded  willingly  to  her  de 
sire  for  an  American  nursery-woman.  Helen  had 
sent  her  an  excellent  one,  not  an  uneducated  ser 
vant,  but  one  who  could  intelligently  assist  her  in 
the  early  training  of  her  children,  as  well  as  take 
care  of  their  infantile  wants.  Mrs.  Warwick  had 
lived  with  her  ever  since  the  birth  of  Luclovico, 
and  the  children's  nursery  was  a  spacious  apart 
ment  which  was  the  children's  home  when  they 
were  not  with  their  mother.  Mrs.  Warwick's 
superintendence  necessarily  made  English  the  lan 
guage  of  the  nursery,  and  this  in  itself  was  a 
protection.  The  Marchioness  had  not  followed  the 
usual  Spanish  custom  of  assigning  to  each  child  a 
little  slave  to  be  its  servant,  so  fruitful  a  source  of 
corruption  in  a  slave  community.  Her  children 
were  never  left  to  their  companionship  nor  allowed 
to  domineer  over  them. 

The  nursery  over  which  Mrs.  Warwick  presided 
occupied  the  largest  room  in  the  mansion,  next  to 
the  great  hall.  It  was  a  little  heaven  to  Helen, 
and  she  passed  much  time  in  it.  The  Marchion 
ess  devoted  some  hours  of  the  moraine:  to  the  in- 


THE  MARCHIONESS.  IOI 

struction  of  the  children:  and  Helen  now  partici 
pated  in  this  pleasant  duty.  She  also  taught  them 
innumerable  pretty  works,  and  many  songs,  for  she 
had  a  delightful  voice,  and  the  musical  little  Span 
iards  were  never  tired  of  hearing  her  sing,  and  of 
learning  them  from  her  lips.  The  children  passed 
most  of  their  indoor  life  in  this  charming  room, 
which  contained  not  only  everything  that  could 
amuse  and  interest  children,  but  lovely  works  of 
art  ;  and  Isabella  liked  to  have  them  live  as  much 
out  of  the  influence  of  guests  as  possible,  so  cor 
rupting  is  the  ordinary  conversation  of  idle- 
minded  people.  Especially  at  this  holiday  season, 
and,  indeed,  in  all  the  dry  winter  season,  the 
country  is  full  of  city  people,  and  Spanish  hospi 
tality  must  keep  open  house. 

Mrs.  Warwick  was  not  made  a  drudge.  Isabella 
insisted  upon  her  retiring  to  her  own  apartment 
when  she  herself  "  kept  school,"  as  she  called  it, 
which  she  did  early  in  the  day.  Mrs.  Warwick 
often  walked  out  by  herself  at  these  hours,  and  the 
Marchioness  knew  very  well  that  she  visited  the 
chicken-house,  and  the  hospital,  and  any  cabins 
that  she  pleased.  She  never  asked  any  questions, 
but  listened  when  Mrs.  Warwick  had  anything  to 
communicate,  and  by  this  means  had  many  more 
opportunities  to  relieve  suffering.  If  Camilla  had 
anything  to  say  upon  the  subject,  she  perempto 
rily  silenced  her,  and  Camilla  had  long  since  re 
signed  herself  to  the  fact  that  Mrs.  Warwick 


IO2  THE  MARCHIONESS. 

enjoyed  a  confidence  she  did  not.  Of  course,  she 
avenged  herself  whenever  she  could,  and  found 
plenty  of  ways  to  do  it  ;  but  Mrs.  Warwick  saw 
that  she  was  no  more  of  a  victim  than  the  Mar 
chioness,  and  knew  that  both  had  a  champion  in 
the  Marquis  when  things  came  to  an  extremity. 
A  word  from  him  arrested  Camilla's  tongue,  as 
nothing  else  did  ;  and  her  tongue  was  her  chief 
instrument  of  vengeance,  though  she  did  not  hesi 
tate  to  use  other  means  when  she  could.  She  was 
not  allowed  to  invade  the  nursery,  and  the  children 
never  came  out  of  it  unattended  either  by  Mrs. 
Warwick  or  their  mother.  There  are  even  Span 
ish  mothers,  exceptional  cases,  who  devote  them 
selves  personally  to  the  education  of  their  children. 
In  such  cases,  they  are  usually  sent  to  the  States 
or  to  France  as  soon  as  they  are  old  enough  to  be 
sent  from  home  ;  and  when  this  cannot  be  done, 
the  resource  seems  to  be  to  teach  them  to  look 
upon  "  la  genie,"  or  "  the  people,"  as  upon  a  race 
of  inferior  beings,  not  to  be  imitated  in  anything. 
The  strongest  expression  of  disapprobation  is  :  "  Do 
you  wish  to  be  like  the  people?"  who  are  a  syn 
onym  for  all  evil.  Even  Manuel  thought  of  them 
as  people  (in  contradistinction  to  the  people)  for  the 
first  time  when  Helen  suggested  the  idea.  He 
liked  to  talk  to  her  about  them,  since  his  own  sym 
pathies  had  been  so  strongly  excited  ;  and  so  did 
Carlito,  who  often  followed  her  to  her  own  apart 
ment  after  he  became  well  acquainted  with  her  in 


THE  MARCHIONESS. 


103 


the  nursery,  where  he  was  always  perfectly  happy. 
She  had  checked  him  in  speaking  of  "the  people" 
before  the  little  girls,  who  were  still  in  the  heaven 
of  unconsciousness  upon  that  fearful  topic. 

It  is  astonishing  how  long  people  can  live  on 
the  surface  of  a  volcano  without  realizing  its  dan 
gers.  We  turn  away  from  the  contemplation  of 
evils  that  are  inevitable,  and,  when  we  veil  them 
from  our  sight,  they  are  to  a  certain  extent  non 
existent  to  us.  Manuel  had  never  actually  wit 
nessed  the  punishment  of  a  slave.  He  had  heard 
the  noise  on  that  fearful  night  of  Helen's  arrival, 
but  he  had  been  lulled  to  sleep  again  as  the  other 
children  were.  This  could  not  have  been  done  if  the 
house  had  stood  on  a  level  with  the  ground,  as 
most  of  the  Cuban  country-houses  do,  but  the 
abode  of  the  Marquis  of  Rodriguez  might  be 
called  a  palace,  and  twenty  or  thirty  steps  led  up 
to  the  apartments  of  the  family.  The  rooms  of 
the  household  slaves  were  below,  with  other  domes 
tic  offices.  Manuel  knew  that  punishments  took 
place,  but  this  was  the  first  revelation  to  him  of 
their  violence.  The  former  overseer  was  not  pas 
sionate  or  cruel.  Manuel  did  not  know  that  he  was 
forbidden  to  visit  the  punished  slaves  because  they 
were  left  such  cruel  spectacles  (they  rarely  emerge 
from  the  hospital  under  a  month).  He  had  an  im 
pression  that  punished  slaves,  as  part  of  their  pun 
ishment,  were  not  allowed  to  partake  of  the  nice 
viands  his  mother  sent  and  carried  to  the  sick. 


IO4 


THE  MARCHIONESS. 


He  knew  enough  to  prevent  him  from  betraying 
a  slave,  but  this  was  his  first  acquaintance  with  the 
whole  truth,  and  it  was  a  lesson  he  never  forgot. 
Good,  kind  old  Carlo  he  loved  very  much.  Carlito 
had  been  much  shielded  also,  for  in  the  city  the 
slaves  are  sent  to  the  public  stocks  to  be  punished. 
It  is  not  a  scene  for  "ears  or  eyes  polite."  In 
private  families,  however,  the  ladies  often  keep  a 
private  whip,  with  which  they  slash  their  maids 
across  the  face  and  neck  when  displeased  with 
them.  Carlito's  kind  mama  was  not  a  lady  of 
that  order,  and  hitherto,  when  the  fresh  cargoes 
were  sent  from  the  family  hospital  to  be  sold,  Car 
lito  heard  no  more  of  them. 

Helen's  heart  fainted  within  her,  when  she 
thought  at  what  a  cost  these  tender-hearted  chil 
dren  were  taught  the  sin  of  slavery,  and  she 
threw  herself  into  the  work  of  ameliorating  the 
lesson  to  them  as  far  as  possible,  without  losing 
sight  of  the  reactionary  effect  that  she  hoped  and 
felt  sure  would  follow.  When  the  field  slaves 
were  absent  at  their  labor,  she  and  the  Mar 
chioness  took  the  children  out  to  play  upon  the 
driers,  or  to  gather  flowers  in  the  gardens  and 
hedges  and  portreros,  as  the  woods  were  called. 
The  flower  circles  practised  in  the  hard  floor  of 
the  piazza  were  tended  chiefly  by  Juanita,  who 
called  the  little  naked  children,  that  were  con 
stantly  running  about,  to  bring  her  water  in  their 
gourds  ;  and  this  was  a  pretty  scene,  which  the 


THE  MARCHIONESS. 


105 


children  could  watch  from  their  nursery  windows, 
without  coming  in  actual  contact  with  the  lit 
tle  darkies,  to  whom  they  threw  confectioneries 
and  lumps  of  sugar.  Then  Camilla  would  come 
with  her  tubs  of  water  and  her  drying-women,  and 
her  endearments  and  droll  sayings  (well  watched 
and  guarded)  were  a  great  source  of  amusement, 
which,  strange  to  say,  she  rarely  abused.  She 
probably  had  wit  enough  to  know  that  she  would 
lose  her  chance  of  seeing  them  if  she  was  not 
watchful  of  herself;  and,  amid  all  her  oddities  and 
vices,  she  did  love  children,  especially  white 
children. 

"  She  would  have  been  an  ornament  to  society," 
the  Marchioness  said,  one  day,  "  if  she  had  had  the 
opportunity." 

"  Such  activity  must  have  a  field,"  Helen 
thought  to  herself ;  "  it  is  not  her  fault  that  she 
has  not  a  good  one." 

God  leaves  man  to  man.  He  does  not  interfere 
arbitrarily,  even  to  do  justice.  You  are  your 
brother's  keeper,  he  would  signify,  and  he  who 
runs  may  read. 

The  Marquis  had  assisted  his  wife  in  his  chil 
dren's  education,  and  Ludovico  was  a  young  man 
of  cultivated  tastes  and  extensive  reading.  Gen 
erous  childhood  always  takes  the  part  of  the 
oppressed,  where  any  chance  for  the  develop 
ment  of  sentiment  is  afforded,  and  an  early 
repugnance  to  slavery  had  manifested  itself  in 


IO6  THE  MARCHIONESS. 

Luclovico,  in  which  his  mother  inwardly  rejoiced, 
while  she  was  cautious  not  to  impair  his  respect 
for  his  father.  It  was  the  Marquis'  intention 
that  he  should  go  to  France,  as  he  had  very  de 
cided  scientific  tastes,  having  inherited  something 
of  the  Marquis  of  Ramonte's  mathematical  genius, 
and  his  mother  hoped  he  would  never  return  to 
the  life  of  a  planter,  even  if  she  was  actually  sep 
arated  from  him.  But  she  knew  that  he  was  too 
affectionate  a  son  to  lose  his  allegiance  to  his  par 
ents,  and  a  dim  hope  sometimes  took  possession 
of  her  that  he  might  be  the  means  of  freeing 
them  all  from  the  life  of  bondage  —  for  the  bond 
age  of  the  master  is  as  veritable  a  fact  as  the 
bondage  of  the  slave  ;  the  one  being  a  moral  bond 
age  only,  while  the  other  is  both  a  moral,  an  in 
tellectual,  and  a  physical  one. 

Thus  far,  Ludovico's  existence  was  but  a  luxu 
rious  dream.  He  had  not  approached  the  solu 
tion  of  the  great  problem  of  slavery.  As  yet  it 
was  only  his  instincts  that  were  arrayed  against  it. 
It  was  a  subject  never  discussed,  rarely  touched 
upon,  and  the  customs  of  the  society  around 
him  were  such  that  the.  germ  had  not  yet  ex 
panded.  Except  in  his  father's  house,  books  and 
literature  were  subjects  scarce  alluded  to.  The 
best  standard  works,  and  all  the  periodical  litera 
ture  of  the  day,  were  at  his  command,  and  he 
lived  with  his  mother  in  a  world  of  intellectual 
beauty.  Life  itself  had  hitherto  been  enjoyment 


THE  MARCHIONESS. 


lO/ 


enough,  in  that  most  delicious  of  all  climates, 
surrounded  by  every  luxury  ;  and  Ludovico  had 
scarcely  yet  separated  himself  from  balmy  air  and 
soft  skies,  nature  in  all  its  loveliest  aspects,  happy 
affections,  and  gratified  wishes,  and  become  a  con 
scious,  independent  existence.  Passion  had  not 
yet  awakened  into  being  any  unsatisfied  cravings, 
for  his  mother  had  never  left  him  to  prey  upon 
himself,  —  but  Ludovico's  slumber  was  nearly  at 
an  end. 

All  development  in  those  genial  climes  is  prema 
ture.  A  youth  of  sixteen  enters  society  on  a  cer 
tain  footing  of  equality  with  older  men.  There 
is  no  boy-life,  such  as  prevails  in  communities 
where  they  are  thrown  together  in  schools.  Low 
and  degrading  pleasures  ;  hunting,  and  card-play 
ing  that  has  no  intellectual  excitement  in  it,  cock- 
fighting,  idle  visiting,  and  dancing,  and  some 
cultivation  of  music  are  the  chief  diversions  of 
country  life.  In  the  cities,  bull-baiting,  cock-fight 
ing,  and  the  opera  are  the  chief  amusements.  In 
most  houses,  one  sees  no  books  but  "Don  Qui 
xote,"  and  no  one  can  understand  every-day  Span 
ish  conversation  who  is  not  familiar  with  this  work, 
for  a  proverb  from  it  finishes  off  nearly  every  re 
mark  that  is  made.  Helen  was  so  puzzled  by  it 
that  her  friend  told  her  she  must  surely  read 
"Don  Quixote"  if  she  wished  to  take  part  or 
even  understand  common  Spanish  talk. 

Drawing  and  painting  were  special  accomplish- 


108  THE  MARCHIONESS. 

ments  of  the  Marchioness.  She  had  studied  bot 
any  with  Helen,  on  Massachusetts'  hills  and  in  her 
valleys,  and  had  imparted  her  taste  and  knowledge 
to  Ludovico.  Music  is  in  the  air  in  Cuba,  and 
it  requires  little  training  to  confine  it  within  the 
keys  or  strings  of  an  instrument.  Spaniards  are 
musical,  negroes  are  musical,  and  the  very  air  is 
musical.  Isabella  played  skilfully,  and  had  in 
structed  her  children.  Ludovico  had  heard  the 
best  of  Italian  music  all  his  life,  sometimes  at 
the  opera  in  the  city,  and  by  the  regimental  bands, 
that  had  little  else  to  do  but  practise  it ;  and  al 
ways  in  private  life,  for  that  and  dancing  were  the 
only  accomplishments  there.  European  musicians 
always  visited  Havana,  and  the  prevailing  music 
of  the  hour  was  repeated  on  every  plantation,  with 
more  or  less  skill.  The  Marchioness  remarked  to 
Helen  one  day  that  she  could  hardly  produce  so 
fine  an  effect  as  the  young  men  who  visited  them, 
and  who  could  sacar  the  music,  as  they  called  it, 
from  a  piano,  with  two  fingers. 

The  vices  that  deform  society  are  chiefly  found 
in  married  life.  I  leave  untouched  the  deep  deg 
radations  growing  out  of  the  corruptions  of  city 
traders'  life,  where  young  men  from  the  old  coun 
try  form  temporary  connections  in  the  families 
where  they  apprentice  themselves  for  a  few  years, 
to  make  money  in  a  way  they  are  too  high-born  and 
bred  to  do  at  home,  leaving  often  large  families  of 
children  and  forsaken  wives,  who  have  cherished 


THE   MARCHIONESS,  JQQ 

secret  hopes  of  being  taken  to  Spain  into  higher 
stations  than  their  own,  and  confine  myself  now 
to  the  upper  classes  of  Cuban  society,  whose  vices 
are  sui  generis. 

Marriage  in  these  classes  is  but  a  nominal 
thing,  and  if  these  ties  are  violated  within  the 
circle  of  one's  visiting  cards  little  opprobrium 
is  attached  to  the  violation.  The  social  posi 
tion  is  in  no  wise  altered  by  it.  Lapses  from 
virtue  in  unmarried  women  are  considered  dis 
graceful  and  are  of  rare  occurrence,  and  there 
fore  no  unmarried  woman  must  be  left  alone 
with  a  male  friend  or  a  relative  farther  removed 
than  parent  or  brother.  Indeed,  no  unmarried 
lady  can  keep  her  father's  house  alone  with 
unblemished  reputation.  Not  even  with  a  priest 
would  a  careful  mother  leave  her  daughter  for 
an  hour. 

It  is  true  that  women  so  corrupted  are  not 
received  in  high  society,  but  the  fact  that  left- 
handed  families  bear  the  sobriquet  of  Holy 
Families  shows  the  average  morality  of  soci 
ety  in  the  colonies,  with  perhaps  some  distant 
conception  that  there  is  something  sacred  in 
true  affection. 

It  is  impossible  not  to  be  aware  that  the 
institution  of  slavery  deepens  and  extends 
these  social  evils  in  all  communities.  But 
where  married  women  are  obliged  to  reconcile 


IIO  THE  MARCHIONESS. 

themselves  to  the  facts  of  concubinage,  prevalent 
in  all  slave  communities,  and  this,  of  course, 
even  without  the  excuse  or  sanction  of  affec 
tion,  perverted  though  it  may  be,  the  fountains 
of  all  virtue  are  poisoned,  and  it  is  only  because 
the  average  civilization  of  Christendom  is  higher 
than  that  of  savage  life,  and  that  some  measure 
of  intellectual  cultivation  withholds  mankind 
from  the  last  degradation,  that  society  does 
not  lapse  back  into  barbarism.  It  is  indeed 
only  barbarism  a  little  refined  and  gilded,  and 
the  remark  may  be  hazarded  that  where  suffer 
ing  woman  has  any  access  to  the  founts  of  Chris 
tian  truth,  however  muddy  with  superstition, 
redemption  is  always  possible,  and  not  infre 
quent.  The  very  slaver's  wife  has  her  faith  in  God, 
though  she  sees  man,  who  is  made  in  his  image, 
subjugated  by  her  own  husband.  This  is  fact  and 
not  fiction.  But  female  slave-holders  are  some 
times  more  refinedly  cruel  than  men. 

Such  were  the  reflections  of  Helen,  as  her  occa 
sional  conversations  with  her  friend  unfolded  the 
true  condition  of  things  around  her.  The  con 
fidence  between  them  was  such  that  no  conceal 
ment  was  attempted.  Helen's  only  consolation 
was  in  seeing  that  the  Marchioness'  heart  was 
still  the  loving  and  kindly  one  she  had  known  it 
to  be  in  her  childhood,  and  that  she  suffered  from 
slavery  more  than  she  was  willing,  for  her  hus- 


THE   MARCHIONESS.  !  z  r 

band's  sake,  to  acknowledge.  This  was  an  earnest 
of  higher  internal  life  than  a  more  comfortable 
apathy  and  acceptance  of  the  evil  could  have  been. 
Her  personal  happiness  was  in  the  affection  of  her 
husband  and  his  warm  appreciation  of  her. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

THE    DINNER. 

ISABELLA  and  Helen  had  sank  into  their  boutacles 
in  the  hall  to  rest  a  little  before  the  visiting  hour 
arrived,  for  the  country  was  at  that  season  full  of 
company  ;  Camilla  rushed  into  the  hall,  so  suddenly 
that  Helen  was  alarmed. 

"  Ah,  my  lady  !  ah  !  gentlemen  coming  !  Ave, 
Maria  sanctissima !  the  nino  Fernando!  ah,  yes, 
yes,  see  him,  the  nino  Fernando  and  the  nino 
Pancho  in  the  country,  too.  Ave,  Maria  sanctis 
sima  !  and  there  is  the  nino  Pepe."  Here  she 
twitched  off  her  shawl,  and  began  dusting. 

"No  dusting  at  this  hour,  Camilla,"  was  all  the 
Marchioness  had  time  to  say  before  the  young  men 
had  jumped  from-  their  horses  and  run  up  the 
steps.  Camilla  rushed  forward,  and  called  out  from 
the  piazza,  "  Jose  !  Tono  !  Pablo  !  come  take  the 
gentlemen's  horses."  The  gentlemen  greeted  her 
as  she  passed,  which  was  evidently  what  she 
wished  for. 

"  Ay  !  good  day,  nino  Fernando,  many  thanks, 
many  thanks,  very  well,  very  well  —  and  you,  too, 
nino  Pancho  !  my  life  !  my  soul  !  and  nino  Pepe  ! 


THE  DIATJ\TER. 


113 


Jose  !  Tono  !  Pablo  !  are  you  sleeping  ?  bad  boys  ! 
Canailla  !  why  don't  you  come  ?  " 

"  Camilla,  go  and  find  them,  and  make  no  more 
noise,"  said  Isabella,  not  quite  so  patiently  as 
usual. 

"  Ay,  yes  !   my  lady,  going,  going  —  yes  —  poor 
Carlo  !  —  poor  Jacobo  !  —  poor  Maria  !    Ah,  yes  — 
the  dogs,  the  dogs  !  —  did  you  see  the  dogs,  niiio 
Fernando  !  " 

"  Camilla,  go  instantly  !  "  said  the  Marchioness, 
with  all  the  sternness  she  could  command. 

"  Camilla  seems  more  lively  than  usual  to-day," 
said  one  of  the  gentlemen,  who  had  in  the  mean 
time  greeted  the  ladies.  "  Has  anything  unusual 
happened  ? " 

Camilla,  hearing  her  name,  had  stolen  back, 
and  was  seen  peeping  from  behind  the  door. 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  poor  Carlo  !  poor  Carlo  !  " 

"Camilla,  be  silent!"  exclaimed  the  Marchion 
ess,  though  in  despair. 

Camilla  again  moved  slowly  away,  with  her  head 
sunk  upon  her  arm,  the  picture  of  mock-woe  and 
discomfiture  ;  but  she  was  not  sufficiently  afraid 
of  her  mistress  to  be  obedient  —  indeed,  it  was 
one  of  the  trials  of  her  mistress'  life  that  this 
woman  was  upon  her  hands,  though  she  always 
declared  her  to  be  a  genius  in  her  vocation. 

The  young  men  who  had  called  this  morning 
were  intimate  friends  of  the  family,  and  under 
stood  both  parties  perfectly.  Don  Pepe,  the 


114 


THE   DINNER, 


youngest  of  the  brothers,  enjoyed  nothing  more 
than  playing  off  the  old  orang-outang,  as  he 
always  called  Camilla,  and  the  Marchioness  rather 
dreaded  the  encounter  to-day,  for  the  theme  was 
too  sad  a  one  for  sport,  and  she  would  willingly 
have  kept  it  wholly  in  the  background.  There  is 
no  such  thing  as  privacy  on  a  plantation  ;  the 
negroes  are  rapid  means  of  communication,  and  a 
disaster  on  any  plantation  is  soon  known  far  and 
wide,  and  often  with  many  exaggerations. 

Isabella  now  presented  these  friends  to  Helen, 
with  whose  name  they  had  long  been  familiar, 
and  their  warm  welcome  was  very  courteous  and 
cordial.  When  she  answered  it  in  good  Spanish 
their  delight  was  boundless,  for  a  visitor  with 
whom  they  can  talk  is  a  boon  on  a  plantation, 
which  becomes  a  very  tedious  residence  to  young 
men  and  women,  unless  enlivened  by  entertaining 
company,  for  the  Spaniards  have  few  resources 
within  themselves.  The  ladies  embroider  muslin 
for  the  dresses  of  the  Christmas  holidays,  and  the 
gentlemen  hunt  a  few  small  game,  make  calls 
when  the  roads  are  good,  get  up  dances  when 
they  can,  even  in  the  morning  call,  and,  if  it  rains 
so  hard  that  they  cannot  go  out  to  ride,  go  to  bed 
and  endeavor  to  sleep  away  the  time.  They  do 
not  even  indulge  in  the  solace  of  a  book,  but  are 
never  tired  of  playing  cards  or  billiards.  Scarcely 
a  family  on  the  island  was  so  cultivated  as  that  of 
the  Marchioness,  whose  literary  resources  made 


THE  DINNER.  H$ 

her  a  favorite  in  society,  and  she  had  a  happy 
faculty  of  drawing  out  what  intelligence  existed 
in  the  brains  of  her  visitors.  An  introduction  in 
the  home  of  a  friend  puts  an  end  to  all  reserve  at 
once  in  a  Spaniard,  and  the  guest  is  adopted  as 
one  of  an  intimate  circle,  without  farther  prelimi 
nary  acquaintance.  When  a  Spaniard  tells  a 
stranger  that  everything  he  has  is  at  his  disposal, 
and  wishes  him,  at  parting,  to  live  a  thousand 
years,  it  is  very  difficult  not  to  believe  him  sin 
cere,  such  is  the  potency  of  beautiful  manners 
and  the  music  of  the  language.  "  May  God  have 
you  in  his  holy  keeping,"  means  no  more  than  the 
French  "a  Dieu "  or  the  English  "Farewell"; 
but  when  such  benevolent  wishes  are  enforced  by 
the  most  ardent  gestures,  one  feels  as  if  Christian 
love  and  community  of  interests  were  ingredients 
of  the  atmosphere. 

The  Marquis  and  his  son  now  entered  from  the 
gallery.  The  sound  of  their  voices  again  brought 
Camilla  from  her  little  pantry,  which  stood  adjacent 
to  the  dinner-gallery,  and  from  which  she  could 
always  see  or  hear  what  was  passing  in  the  hall. 

"  Camilla,  sugar  and  water,"  said  the  Marquis. 

"  Ah,  yes,  mi  alma  !  Luclovico,  my  life  !  apple 
of  my  eye !  core  of  my  heart !  welcome  home  !  " 
Then,  crossing  her  hands  upon  her  bosom,  she 
turned  her  head  on  one  shoulder,  and  laughed 
foolishly  to  herself.  "  French  ladies  walk !  dogs 
very  bad  !  poor  Carlo  !  " 


Il6  THE  DINNER. 

"  Silence,  fool !  "  exclaimed  the  Marquis,  in  a 
voice  that  made  Camilla  disappear  from  the  scene 
without  farther  word  or  pantomime  ;  and  when 
she  returned  with  the  sugar  and  water,  she  came 
with  noiseless  tread  and  downcast  eyes.  Upon 
her  arm  hung  a  long  linen  napkin  of  the  finest 
cambric,  deeply  embroidered,  and  edged  with  lace, 
upon  which  the  gentlemen  wiped  their  fingers  and 
mouths  after  sipping  the  sugar  and  water.  Don 
Pepe  thanked  her  with  much  solemnity,  but  not 
a  motion  was  apparent  in  her  now  stony  counte 
nance,  and  no  sound  issued  from  her  lips.  The 
stage  effect  with  which  she  threw  herself  into 
each  role  that  she  assumed  would  have  amused  a 
light  heart,  but  Helen  could  not  smile  to-day 
unless  her  thoughts  were  diverted  from  that  ele 
ment  of  the  society  in  which  she  found  herself, 
and  of  which  she  found  it  a  constant  compo 
nent. 

It  was  not  long  before  Camilla  reappeared,  with 
a  huge  tray  of  oranges,  peeled  and  halved,  stacked 
high,  and  a  pile  of  napkins  on  a  small  tray  behind 
her,  that  was  borne  by  a  little  barefooted,  half- 
naked  negro  boy.  The  company  sucked  the  juice 
from  the  oranges,  and  threw  the  skins  upon  the 
floor,  which  were  seized  and  borne  away  by  the 
little  fellow  after  he  had  handed  the  napkins.  He 
soon  returned  and  gathered  the  napkins. 

When  the  gentlemen  walked  away  to  the  other 
end  of  the  piazza,  in  conversation  with  the  Mar- 


THE  DINNER. 


117 


quis  and  Ludovico,  Helen  asked  the  Marchioness 
if  this  was  a  common  exhibition  of  Camilla's. 

"  Oh,  very  common  ;  but  it  is  not  often  that 
her  master  speaks  so  sternly  to  her.  Probably 
she  will  not  speak  again  to-day ;  neither  will  she 
do  anything.  We  shall  all  have  to  suffer  on 
account  of  her  discomfiture,  particularly  as  these 
young  men  are  here.  Fernando  is  very  discreet, 
but  Pepe  has  no  consideration  for  me,  and  cannot 
resist  playing  her  off.  Sometimes  she  gets  up 
some  rare  dish  for  them,  but  if  she  is  displeased 
with  me,  she  knows  she  can  annoy  me  by  having 
a  very  meagre  dinner,  or  by  spoiling  whatever  she 
touches.  I  am  her  slave,  I  assure  you.  If  I  go 
to  make  any  inquiries,  —  about  the  dessert,  for 
instance,  —  I  shall  only  make  the  matter  wrorse. 
I  shall  try  hard  to  keep  quiet.  If  I  can  privately 
communicate  with  Tom,  the  cook,  who  is  as  good- 
natured  as  she  is  id-tempered,  I  shall  be  sure  to 
have  his  part  of  the  dinner  in  good  order.  They 
are  sworn  enemies,  and  she  will  do  everything  she 
can  to  defeat  his  plans  ;  but  it  will  be  a  comfort 
to  have  good  meats  and  vegetables,  if  we  cannot 
have  good  puddings,  sweetmeats,  and  fruits.  Per 
haps  Juanita  will  come  in  again,  and  she  can 
sometimes  outwit  her.  But  Juanita  is  much  out 
of  spirits  to-day,  as  we  all  are." 

The  gentlemen,  now  possessed  of  what  hap 
pened  the  night  before,  of  which  they  had  heard 
rumors  on  the  way,  expressed  great  sympathy  for 
the  sufferers. 


Il8  THE  DINNER. 

Helen's  heart  warmed  up  immediately  to  Don 
Fernando  when  he  exclaimed,  with  much  feeling, 

O  ' 

"  Ah,  la  Marquesa  !  what  a  sad  thing  this  slavery 
is  !  I  wish  there  was  no  such  thing !  " 

"  So  do  I,"  said  Ludovico.  "  I  am  going  to  the 
States  to  live ;  there  is  one  part  of  them  at  least 
where  there  is  no  slavery,  and  I  will  brave  the 
cold  for  the  sake  of  turning  my  back  upon  it.  I 
would  not  stay  here  if  I  were  you,  Miss  Went- 
worth.  I  know  you  think  we  are  cruel  and 
wicked  people.  /  do." 

A  look  from  his  father  silenced  Ludovico  as 
effectually  as  it  had  Camilla,  but  Don  Fernando 
went  on  :  "  It  is  a  sad  inheritance.  I  sometimes 
wish  I  had  never  been  out  of  the  country,  that  I 
might  not  draw  parallels.  I  think  all  the  world 
that  I  have  seen  is  pretty  bad,  but  this  is  the  worst 
that  there  is." 

"Are  you  not  talking  dangerously,  Don  Fer 
nando  ?  "  asked  the  Marquis. 

"  I  don't  know  who  there  is  to  make  me  afraid," 
replied  Fernando. 

"But  do  you  not  risk  promoting  insurrection  ?" 

"My  people  know  just  what  I  think,  but  I  am 
not  afraid  of  them." 

"You  have  an  excellent  overseer." 

"  If  he  is  as  good  when  we  are  absent  from  the 
plantation  as  when  we  are  here  ;  but  he  keeps  very 
good  order  without  severity." 

"  Your  slaves  are  not  new  like  mine." 


THE  DINNER. 


119 


"  I  know  I  have  that  advantage,  and  Dona 
Josefa  is  a  very  gentle  mistress.  The  people  all 
love  her  well  enough  to  obey  her.  They  see  that 
she  has  a  fellow-feeling  for  them.  You  have  good 
people  too,  Marquis.  This  accident  must  not  dis 
courage  you.  You  have  not  so  many  deadheads 
to  look  after  as  we  have  had.  They  make  the 
most  trouble  on  a  plantation." 

All  this  was  music  to  Helen's  ear.  It  renewed 
her  confidence  in  her  friends,  who  must  not  suffer 
injustice  from  her  because  a  bad  man  had  done  a 
bad  action. 

Still,  the  view  she  had  had  behind  the  scenes,  in 
both  her  experiences,  stamped  the  institution  of 
slavery  with  the  character  it  deserved. 

Helen  would  fain  have  enlarged  upon  the  sub 
ject,  but  she  saw  the  turn  the  conversation  had 
taken  was  not  agreeable  to  the  host.  Other  guests 
came,  and  all  was  hilarity. 

The  recent  death  of  Ferdinand  of  Spain  had 
suppressed  all  the  public  festivities  of  Christmas 
the  preceding  year ;  a  decree  went  forth,  as  part  of 
the  public  mourning,  that  there  should  be  no  public 
dancing  for  six  months.  No  other  observance  of 
the  national  loss  (supposing  it  was  such)  could  so 
effectually  have  saddened  the  countenances  of  the 
pleasure-loving  Spaniards,  to  whom  music  and 
dancing  are  as  nectar  and  ambrosia  were  to  the 
gods  of  Olympus.  Outward  rebellion  was  impos 
sible  under  a  despotic  monarchy  and  its  despotic 


12Q  THE   DINNER. 

representatives ;  but  the  spirit  of  the  decree  was 
thoroughly  evaded  by  a  proportionate  increase  of 
private  music  and  dancing.  The  holidays  were 
near  at  hand,  the  pressure  would  be  lifted  this 
year,  and  the  proprietors  of  the  plantations,  most 
of  whom  lived  in  the  citv,  were  flocking  to  their 

J  *  «^> 

country  residences  accompanied  by  troops  of 
friends.  Every  clay  of  the  holidays  must  be  spent 
in  festivity  and  visiting.  This  was  as  much  a  part 
of  the  national  religion  as  the  observance  of  the 
festival  days  of  the  Church.  Indeed,  in  Cuba  the 
festal  celebrations  of  the  Church  were  still  relig 
iously  observed,  while  the  fasts  were  wholly  dis 
pensed  with,  for,  since  the  license  that  had  prevailed 
in  the  colonies  at  the  period  of  the  Constitution 
in  Spain,  religion  had  been  but  a  nominal  thing 
except  in  the  hearts  of  some  devout  women  and 
aged  men. 

Village  balls  were  to  occupy  every  evening  of 
the  coming  holidays.  These  take  place  in  some 
public  home  of  the  village,  and  are  supported  by 
the  gambling  tables.  Few  skilled  games  are 
played  in  Cuba,  but  the  guests  bet  upon  the  num 
ber  of  spots  upon  a  card,  and  then  fall  into  the 
dance  in  another  apartment,  in  the  intervals  of 
which  they  go  to  learn  the  fortunes  of  the  game. 
Estates  often  change  owners  under  the  tremen 
dous  excitement  of  the  play  —  not  an  intellectual 
excitement  as  in  other  regions,  but  strictly  a 
moneyed  one. 


THE  DINNER.  I2r 

As  Camilla  was  to  all  intents  and  purposes, 
through  perverseness,  off  duty  to-day,  and  as  Carlo's 
family,  the  usual  house  servants,  were  disabled,  the 
Marchioness  was  obliged  to  superintend  in  person 
the  arrangements  for  a  large  number  of  guests,  which 
number  was  liable  to  increase  till  the  last  moment. 
Tom  was  equal  to  all  demands  in  his  department,  and 
the  resources  of  the  plantation  in  meats,  fruits,  and 
vegetables  were  inexhaustible,  and  sometimes  Tom 
got  up  the  best  dinners  when  he  was  most  intoxi 
cated,  but  some  exceptions  to  this  always  made  his 
mistress  tremble.  Drinking  was  forbidden  on  this 
well  regulated  plantation,  but  Tom  was  the  c/icfoi  a 
deceased  relative,  who  had  bequeathed  him  to  the 
Marquis,  and  his  equal  was  not  known  in  the 
neighborhood,  so  that  his  delinquencies  had  to  be 
winked  at  for  the  sake  of  his  services.  Besides 
this,  Tom  was  the  kindest,  lovingest,  and  most 
faithful  of  servants,  barring  his  infirmity.  Camilla 
hated  him  because  of  his  successes,  but  he  did  not 
hate  any  one,  only  coolly  baffled  her  schemes,  and, 
if  she  were  off  the  ground  from  ill-temper,  he 
would  even  venture  upon  her  department  and  send 
in  from  his  cooking  cabin  the  choicest  of  pastry. 
This  possibility  was  the  only  check  upon  Camilla's 
disloyalty  to  her  kind  mistress.  If  there  had  been 
no  one  to  take  her  place  in  emergencies,  the 
Marchioness  would  have  been  a  more  unhappy 
victim  then  she  was.  The  expenditure  of  talent 
in  the  art  of  tormenting  on  Camilla's  part  was 


122  THE  DINNER. 

worthy  of  study.  She  was  never  so  happy  as  when 
others  were  unhappy  ;  the  greater  confusion,  the 
higher  her  spirits  rose.  If  she  felt  good-natured, 
if  her  inexplicable  vanity  was  gratified,  she  could 
do  wonders.  The  Marchioness  rejoiced  to-day  that 
Don  Fernando  and  Don  Pepe  were  there,  for  they 
always  praised  her  for  her  achievements,  and  she 
took  pride  in  calling  forth  their  commendations, 
not  realizing  the  degree  to  which  they  amused 
themselves  by  playing  upon  her  weaknesses. 
What  she  might  do  to-day  no  one  could  conjecture. 
If  she  would  not  speak  all  day  there  would  be 
great  rejoicing  in  high  places,  for  this  passive  form 
of  revenge  was  the  least  harmful  under  the  present 
circumstances. 

When  the  young  people  began  to  dance,  which 
Ludovico  promoted  as  soon  as  possible,  Helen 
was  rejoiced  that  there  were  enough  dancers 
without  her,  and  declined  many  urgent  invitations 
to  partake  in  the  amusement.  Her  puritanic  edu 
cation  did  not  admit  of  waltzing,  but  she  could 
have  enjoyed  the  poetry  of  motion  as  exemplified 
in  the  southern  contra-dances,  if  the  music  and 
the  gayety  had  not  on  this  occasion  seemed  to 
her  like  heartless  mockery.  She  would  gladly 
have  retired  from  the  scene,  but  social  life  on  the 
plantations  does  not  admit  of  that  degree  of  self- 
indulgence.  Every  one  is  expected  to  do  his  part, 
by  presence  at  least,  especially  in  the  country, 
where  solitude  is  the  rule  and  society  the  exception. 


THE  DINNER. 


123 


The  beautiful  Juanita,  who  had  attracted  her 
attention  all  day,  moved  slowly  round  among  the 
company,  bearing  oranges.  Her  beauty  and  her 
tasteful  dress  attracted  the  attention  of  every  one. 
Her  features  were  very  soft,  though  their  contour 
was  lofty,  and  the  rich  brown  complexion  was  set  off 
by  a  highly  colored  muslin  handkerchief,  that  was 
twirled  into  a  becoming  turban,  —  a  costume  that 
prevailed  among  ladies  as  well  as  among  slaves, 
differing  only  in  the  costliness  of  the  material. 
There  was  not  a  lady  in  the  company  whose  grace 
of  motion,  clearness  of  complexion,  or  dignity  of 
mien  surpassed  hers.  She  lifted  her  eyes  to  no 
one,  and  no  one  addressed  her  in  the  presence  of 
her  mistress.  A  simple  muslin  dress,  cut  to  her 
throat,  with  short  sleeves  that  left  exposed  an 
arm  that  would  make  a  sculptor  rave,  set  off  her 
singular  Moorish  beauty,  which  bore  no  trace  of 
the  negro. 

The  dinner  was  a  success,  in  spite  of  Camilla's 
perversity.  Tom  was  sober  that  day,  and  realized 
the  importance  of  his  position.  It  was  even  sup 
posed  that  Camilla  sometimes  smuggled  into  his 
cabin  a  bottle  of  liquor,  to  defeat  any  plans  he 
might  form  to  baffle  her.  She  could  not  make 
him  quarrel,  and  did  not  dare  to  find  fault  with 
him  aloud  ;  for  Tom  was  one  of  the  Marquis'  pets, 
and  of  the  Marquis  she  stood  in  awe.  She  had 
been  known  to  make  his  nice  viands  disappear 
mysteriously,  at  the  very  moment  they  were 


124 


THE  DINNER. 


wanted.  I  say  "had  been  known,"  but  mumma 
Camilla  was  too  skilled  a  diplomatist  ever  to  have 
been  detected  in  such  practices.  It  was  only  by 
inference  that  such  things  could  ever  be  laid  at 
her  door,  —  circumstantial  evidence,  whose  weight 
she  was  herself  unable  to  estimate ;  sudden  ac 
cess  of  good  spirits ;  preternatural  activity  to 
supply  the  deficiency,  or  pretended  eagerness  to 
discover  the  culprit,  laying  the  charge,  perhaps, 
to  some  unfortunate  individual  who  had  offended 
her,  or  even  to  Tom  himself.  No  missing  spoons 
were  ever  found  in  her  baskets,  but  she  would 
sometimes  produce  them  with  :  "  Does  any  one 
know  how  to  find  lost  things  like  mumma  Ca 
milla?"  And,  if  asked  where  they  were  found, 
she  would  shake  her  head  mysteriously.  "  Povere- 
cita  (poor  little  one) !  Canailla!  we  will  not  tell  this 
time ;  it  will  never  be  done  there  again.  My  eyes 
are  open  now,  and  it  would  be  hard  to  punish  her 
the  first  time  !  "  When  pressed,  as  had  some 
times  been  the  case,  punishment  had  been  admin 
istered  in  the  wrong  places,  and  her  mistress 
preferred,  upon  the  whole,  to  pretend  belief  in  the 
old  hag's  superior  knowledge  and  benevolence, 
especially  if  things  came  back  in  due  time  ;  and 
she  found  that  their  reappearance  was  invariably 
in  the  inverse  ratio  to  the  anxiety  she  expressed. 
Tom  was  the  most  kind-hearted  of  human  crea 
tures.  He  could  not  wring  a  chicken's  neck 
without  turning  his  head  aside.  He  made  toys 


THE  DINNER. 


125 


for  the  children,  cages  for  their  birds,  nets  for 
catching  fishes  from  the  lagoon,  and  traps  for 
game ;  brought  them  flowers  from  the  forest 
trees,  and  birds'  eggs  from  the  deserted  nests.  It 
will  be  seen  that  Tom  was  not  wholly  consistent 
in  his  benevolence,  but  he  would  not  rob  a  mother- 
bird  of  its  eggs.  His  good  offices  were  not  con 
fined  to  his  mistress'  children.  All  the  little 
darkies  on  the  plantation  were  his  friends.  He 
bound  them  to  him  by  bones  from  his  stews  and 
cooked  vegetables  from  his  kettles.  They  brought 
him  wood  from  the  portreros,  vegetables  from  the 
garden,  windfalls  from  the  orange-trees,  eggs 
from  the  hens'  nests,  when  they  could  steal  them 
slyly,  —  but  hens  were  negro  property,  and  woe 
be  it  to  them  if  they  were  found  out!  —  such 
eggs  were  always  ostensibly  from  stolen  nests. 
Through  the  children  he  undoubtedly  obtained 
the  intoxicating  draughts  that  were  his  passion, 
but  no  investigation  had  ever  come  to  the  bottom 
of  this  mystery.  Tom  was  the  only  safe  trans 
gressor  upon  the  plantation,  for  careful  restric 
tions  were,  in  other  cases,  well  enforced  upon  this 
point. 

But  Tom  never  allowed  the  children  to  step 
over  the  threshold  of  his  cabin,  nor,  indeed,  did 
man  or  woman  ever  venture  so  far.  He  was  lord 
and  master  of  that  domain.  His  cooking  cabin 
was  about  twenty  rods  from  the  mansion,  and  he 
also  appropriated  twenty  feet  in  circuit  around  it 


126  THE   DINNER. 

for  his  various  kettles,  for  his  culinary  apparatus 
inside  (I  do  not  know  the  nature  of  it)  did  not 
accommodate  all  the  varieties  of  Tom's  cooking 
exploits.  Don  Pancho,  one  of  the  present  guests, 
had  been  known  to  put  his  head  into  the  door 
occasionally,  to  request  Tom  not  to  put  pepper 
into  the  food  that  day,  for  he  had  been  in  France 
and  had  acquired  the  notion  that  pepper  was  not 
good  for  himself.  From  some  unaccountable 
reason,  supposed  by  the  imaginative  to  be  a 
golden  reason,  which  could  be  transmuted  into 
comforting  beverages,  Tom  did  not  resent  this 
intrusion,  but  it  was  the  solitary  exception  known. 
Helen  took  a  great  fancy  for  peeping  in  one  day, 
but  the  Marchioness  described  Tom's  idiosyn 
crasy  upon  the  subject,  and  also  advised  her  not 
to  do  it  on  her  own  account,  if  she  ever  expected 
to  relish  her  food  again  ;  so  she  gave  up  the 
attempt  and  endeavored  to  forget  that  she  had 
ever  thought  of  it,  although  Isabella  ended  her 
remonstrance  with  "  Fire  purifies  everything,  you 
know." 

When  the  company  was  fairly  seated  at  table  in 
the  open  gallery  behind  the  saloon  and  shaded 
from  the  sun  by  the  linen  drapery,  which  at  a  sub 
sequent  hour  was  raised  for  air  and  for  a  view  of 
the  splendid  flower-border  that  separated  the  house 
from  the  coffee-driers,  flagons  of  cool  water  stand 
ing  in  saucers  and  wreathed  with  flowers  (a  pecu 
liarity  of  Spanish  tables),  with  which  Juanita  had 


THE  DINNER. 


127 


decked  them  to  please  Ludovico,  for  she  cared 
little  that  day  to  please  the  company  expected  to 
the  dinner,  Camilla  opened  the  door  of  her  little 
pantry  and  came  slowly  forth,  her  face  wrapped  in 
a  huge  layer  of  cotton  batting,  and  established 
herself  with  her  dish-tub  on  the  upper  step  of  the 
gallery,  where  she  was  accustomed  to  wash  the 
plates  from  the  table  as  they  were  rapidly  changed 
for  the  different  courses.  Her  mistress  would 
gladly  have  dispensed  with  this  spectacle,  though 
there  was  a  certain  satisfaction  in  seeing  one's 
plates  so  thoroughly  washed  as  mumma  Camilla 
was  in  the  habit  of  washing  them,  but  she  dreaded 
the  display  and  the  noise  that  would  probably  ac 
company  it.  Camilla  walked  slowly  back  and  forth 
several  times  in  pursuit  of  her  soap  and  her  cloths, 
her  arms  hanging  lifeless  as  it  were  before  her, 
her  head  drawn  a  little  aside,  apparently  in  pain, 
and  her  eyes  red  and  swollen  with  weeping.  When 
several  of  the  company  who  knew  her  and  had 
often  been  amused  by  her  spoke  to  her,  and  ex 
pressed  pity  for  her  pain,  she  answered  them  only 
in  "pantomime,  pointing  with  solemn  gestures  to 
her  face,  shaking  her  head,  and  drawing  deep 
sighs. 

"  Mumma  Camilla  has  the  toothache,"  said  Don 
Pepe  to  Ludovico  across  Miss  Wentworth.  "Shall 
I  send  her  a  dish  of  soup  ?  " 

It  is  a  Spanish  custom  to  send  tidbits  to  friends 
across  the  table. 


128  THE   DINNER. 

"  Ay,  Pepe !  if  you  have  any  pity  upon  us,  do 
not  take  any  notice  of  her,"  said  Ludovico. 
"There  are  strangers  sitting  by  mama,  and  I 
am  afraid  the  old  creature  will  do  some  ridiculous 
thing." 

"  For  my  part,"  said  Don  Pepe,  "  I  am  never 
satisfied  till  I  have  had  a  little  fun  with  mumma 
Camilla." 

Camilla's  eyes  were  not  so  swollen  that  she 
could  not  see  that  Don  Pepe  was  ready  for  a  frolic, 
and,  catching  the  sound  of  her  name,  she  sat  down 
on  the  steps  of  the  gallery,  and  began  to  wash 
some  plates  just  taken  from  the  table. 

"  Ay,  no  !  mumma  Camilla,  do  not  sit  in  that 
wind  ;  it  will  make  your  toothache  worse." 

A  solemn  shake  of  the  head  and  a  furious  clat 
ter  of  plates  was  the  only  notice  taken  of  this 
kindly  warning,  nor  could  Pepe,  by  all  his  arts, 
elicit  a  word.  If  crockery  could  speak  an  intelli 
gible  language,  it  would  have  been  all-sufficient, 
and  the  din  waxed  louder  and  louder,  till  the  Mar 
quis  uttered  in  a  loud  voice,  "  Silenzio  !  go  to 
your  pantry,  Camilla." 

There  was  no  appeal  from  this,  and  slowly  and 
despondingly  Camilla  obeyed  —  but  before  long 
she  emerged  with  a  young  assistant,  who  took  her 
place  at  the  tub,  and  every  time  she  made  the 
slightest  noise  with  a  plate,  Camilla  warned  her 
with  a  sign  from  her  finger.  She  watched  the 
Marquis'  eye,  and  if  it  turned  to  the  other  side, 


THE  DINNER. 


129 


she  indulged  in  frantic  pantomimes  of  pain  —  but 
she  was  vigilant  enough  not  to  let  him  catch  her 
at  that  amusement.  She  took  no  notice  of  Tom's 
wonderful  performances  in  the  way  of  pastry,  but 
Pepe  did  his  best  to  praise  them  and  to  send  tid 
bits  of  them  to  his  friends  around  the  table,  for 
each  of  which  Camilla  was  called  upon  for  a  plate. 
Fernando  turned  his  reproving  eye  upon  him 
several  times,  but  he  was  as  incorrigible  as  Camilla 
herself,  and  did  his  best  to  make  a  sensation. 

When  the  meats  and  pies  were  disposed  of,  the 
Marquis  gave  a  signal,  and  the  company  rose  and 
walked  out  upon  the  piazza,  on  the  other  side  of 
the  saloon  for  refreshments,  while  the  fruits  and 
sweetmeats  and  some  light  wines  were  set  upon 
the  table,  when  the  company  reseated  themselves, 
changing  their  former  places  for  variety,  and  sat 
an  hour  longer.  The  party  broke  up  after  another 
dance,  and  the  wearied  hosts  separated,  hoping 
to  rest  after  their  thirty-six  hours  of  excitement. 

And  every  day  was  a  partial  repetition  of  sim 
ilar  scenes,  till  the  holidays  were  over. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

THE    DRIVE. 

THE  quitrin  which  was  whirled  to  the  door 
after  the  departure  of  the  guests  was  a  volante 
with  a  movable  top  which  can  be  thrown  back 
like  an  old-fashioned  English  chaise.  The  cale- 
sero  was  in  his  gayest  holiday  livery,  for  he  had 
been  in  attendance  at  the  dinner  table  where  the 
coachmen  even  of  the  guests  wait  upon  their 
masters. 

The  harness  was  of  burnished  silver,  polished 
to  its  utmost  brilliancy,  and  the  liveries  were 
slashed  with  blue,  and  embroidered  with  silver 
lace.  Long  blue  ribbons  floated  from  the  steeple- 
crowned  hat  of  the  calesero,  with  gay  cockades  to 
match,  fastened  upon  the  side  of  the  steeple  with 
large  silver  buttons.  The  blue  silk  linings  and 
curtains  of  the  quitrin  were  trimmed  with  deep 
silver  fringe.  There  was  not  a  more  tasteful  car 
riage  in  the  island. 

"  This  turn-out  is  especially  in  honor  of  you," 

said  the  Marquesa  to  her  friend.     "  I  suppose  Pope 

Urban,  as  we  call  him,  thought  the  carriage  should 

match  the  liveries  to-day,  and  every  slave  on  the 

130 


THE  DRIVE.  l^i 

plantation  knows  that  you  are  my  particular 
American  friend.  Pope  Urban  has  almost  given 
up  driving,  since  he  has  grown  so  old,  but  I  under 
stand  this  is  a  compliment  to  myself." 

Before  Helen  was  aware,  Pope  Urban  had  deftly 
lifted  and  deposited  her  in  the  sky-blue  quitrin, 
and  then  performed  the  same  office  for  his  lady. 

"I  have  had  many  a  ride  in  a  basket  on  Pope 
Urban's  head.  He  considers  me  his  especial  prop 
erty,  and  was  a  present  from  my  kind  father  on 
my  marriage." 

One  horse  was  placed  between  the  shafts,  the 
other  outside,  and  the  latter  Pope  Urban  bestrode, 
with  much  grace,  holding  the  reins  almost  at  arm's 
length. 

"What  a  fatiguing  mode  of  guiding  the  horses," 
said  Helen. 

"Yes,"  replied  her  friend,  "the  caleseros  do  not 
generally  live  to  be  as  old  as  Pope  Urban.  The 
position  in  which  they  drive  soon  affects  the 
chest.  But  this  old  man  has  been  favored.  He 
superintends  the  younger  caleseros,  and  rarely 
drives  now.  But  I  always  feel  safest  in  his 
hands.  The  boys  have  great  command  over  the 
horses,  with  whom  they  are  brought  up  as  daily 
companions,  but  they  are  so  careless  that  I  never 
ride  without  trembling, — and  indeed  I  rarely  take 
out  the  children  without  my  husband  is  with  me, 
and  he  uses  reins  and  an  American  bit  to  please 
me.  This  bit  which  Urban  uses  does  not  pass 


132 


THE   DRIVE. 


through  the  mouth,  but  only  above  and  below  it, 
and  it  never  seems  so  safe  to  me.  Pope  Urban  is 
always  prompt  too.  I  did  not  expect  to  see  the 
volante  for  an  hour  to  come.  One  New  England 
domestic  will  do  the  work  of  half  a  dozen  slaves, 
and  in  half  the  time.  But  it  is  a  sad  pity  that 
you  are  plunged  at  once  into  this  painful  subject. 
I  hoped  to  veil  it  from  your  eyes  for  a  long  time. 
Indeed,  this  dreadful  occurrence  is  the  first  experi 
ence  of  the  kind  since  my  marriage.  My  husband 
has  been  so  careful,  and  our  good  overseer  never 
exposed  anything  to  me." 

Helen  wondered  if  he  was  good  to  those  below 
him  as  well  as  to  those  above  him. 

"  Camilla  was  spoiled  before  I  came  to  La  Con- 
solacion.  A  former  overseer  ruined  her,  and  they 
became  such  tyrants  together  that  the  whole  rule 
was  taken  from  the  master's  hands,  till  on  one 
occasion  they  ventured  a  little  too  far,  and  he  was 
dismissed,  and  Camilla  sent  into  the  field  till  her 
proud  spirit  was  humbled  a  little.  Since  my 
regime  she  has  taken  me  for  her  slave  ;  but  she  is 
so  useful  I  cannot  do  without  her,  and  when  my 
children  are  ill  she  is  like  one  inspired.  She  is 
never  so  well  content  as  when  the  power  is  all  in 
her  own  hands." 

"You  are  under  bondage,  indeed,  dear  Isabella," 
exclaimed  Helen.  "  Forgive  me  for  reproaching 
you  this  morning." 

"  Oh,  yes,  dear,  fully.     To  tell  the  truth,  there 


THE  DRIVE. 


133 


was  a  certain  satisfaction  in  listening  to  your 
indignation.  But  my  husband  does  the  best  he 
can.  Many  of  these  people  are  raw  Africans. 
The  cholera  desolated  this  part  of  the  island  last 
year,  and  we  lost  more  than  half  our  people.  It 
is  very  difficult  to  break  the  new  ones  in." 

As  the  Marquesa  spoke,  the  horse  in  the  shafts 
gave  a  sudden  start,  and  nearly  disengaged  the 
reins  from  the  hand  of  Pope  Urban.  But,  though 
unprepared,  his  presence  of  mind  did  not  forsake 
him,  and  he  drew  him  up  strongly,  directly  oppo 
site  the  object  of  his  terror,  judging,  doubtless, 
that  if  he  left  it  behind,  he  should  not  be  able  to 
restrain  his  flight.  The  sharp  prickers  on  the  bit 
penetrated  his  flesh  above  and  below  the  mouth, 
and  the  blood  spouted  forth.  This  arrested  his 
progress,  and  he  suddenly  stopped,  trembling 
violently. 

A  little  old  man,  frightful  enough  in  aspect  to 
have  terrified  man  or  beast,  rose  from  the  brink  of 
a  large  marble  basin  to  sue  for  money.  He  did 
not  mean  to  frighten  the  horse,  and  probably  a 
chicken  in  the  hedge  would  have  produced  the 
same  effect  upon  the  noble  animal. 

"What  are  you  doing  here,  Jose?"  said  the 
Marquesa. 

"  Dead  fish  kill  fish,  —  take  out  dead  fish,"  he 
answered,  in  broken  Spanish. 

"  Go  to  the  other  side,  away  from  the  park,  for 
fear  of  frightening;  other  horses.  If  Pablo  had 


134 


THE  DRIVE. 


been  driving,  we  should  have  been  run  away 
with." 

"Much  sorry,  lady  —  good  lady.  Urban o  know 
horse,  —  horse  know  Urbano,"  he  added,  and, 
seeing  the  blood  flow  from  the  horse's  mouth,  he 
dropped  his  gourd  into  the  water  and  put  it  to  the 
poor  beast's  mouth,  and  then  threw  the  remainder 
over  his  head.  The  grateful  animal,  quite  tamed 
down,  acknowledged  the  kindness  with  expressive 
motions  of  his  ears,  and  they  rode  on  in  silence 
for  some  time. 

"  You  see  they  are  not  all  Urbans,  dear  Helen. 
That  is  one  of  the  bozals  that  came  last  year ; 
he  is  a  cripple  from  some  cause,  but  was  bought 
in  a  large  coffle,  and  has  never  been  put  to  hard 
work." 

Helen  did  not  -wish  to  know  how  he  had  been 
reduced  to  such  a  hideous  semblance  of  humanity, 
and  only  replied  :  — 

"  He  has  a  kind  heart  left." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  the  Marquesa,  "  they  are  a 
kindly  race ;  but  let  us  not  talk  of  them  any  more 
now.  I  am  afraid  you  will  not  observe  all  the 
beauties  around  you.  Is  not  my  rose  hedge 
beautiful  ?  " 

The  hedge  was  about  three  feet  in  height  and 
now  in  full  bloom  of  clustered  roses,  as  delicate 
and  almost  as  small  as  the  Multiflora.  It  looked 
indeed  like  a  bank  of  roses. 

Helen  had  not  been   unmindful  of  the  stately 


THE  DRIVE. 


135 


palm-avenues  she  had  threaded  the  night  before, 
but  even  the  rosy  sunset  did  not  make  them 
glorious  to  her  to-day.  All  was  darkened  to  her 
vision,  and  the  long  avenues,  imposing  as  they 
were,  no  longer  seemed  to  her  living  pillars  of 
beauty,  spreading  their  tufted  foliage  as  an  ex 
pression  of  their  own  inward  joy  for  the  fulness 
of  life  ;  for  here  the  very  plants  of  the  earth 
seemed  to  breath  consciously,  from  the  spiritual 
night-blooming  cereus  —  which  expands  after  the 
sun  goes  down  from  bud  to  flower,  before  the 
astonished  gaze  of  the  beholder  —  to  the  more 
homely  grain,  which  springs  from  the  rich  earth 
the  very  day  after  it  is  planted. 

The  mysterious  shadows  of  the  cocoas,  which 
the  day  before  looked  like  the  guardians  of  hidden 
coolness,  as  they  interposed  their  rustling  shields 
between  her  and  the  burning  sun  when  the 
horses'  heads  were  turned  into  their  friendly 
avenues  for  rest  and  refreshment,  now  cast  a 
melancholy  veil  over  the  earth  they  shaded,  and 
the  stiff  leaves  whispered  sad  secrets  of  wrong 
done  and  unredeemed.  The  Gothic  arches  of  the 
bamboo  alleys  were  in  consonance  with  her  feel 
ings.  The  deciduous  leaf,  which  is  constantly 
falling,  forms  a  thick  russet  carpet  under  the 
plumy  foliage  of  these  gigantic  tufted  grasses, 
whose  tops,  interlaced  in  an  impenetrable  roof, 
give  no  access  to  the  sun,  and  impart  the  sensa 
tion  of  a  cool  grotto.  Every  pore  is  sensitive  to 


!^6  THE   DRIVE. 

the  influences  of  nature  in  this  delicious  climate. 
Each  plant  and  tree  tells  its  own  tale,  awakens  its 
own  analogy  with  life ;  but  these  analogies  are  but 
echoes  of  the  soul  that  lays  itself  open  to  their 
influences. 

When  they  emerged  into  an  open  plain  and  she 
saw  groups  of  palm-trees  in  the  distance,  where 
they  stood,  in  their  native  wildness,  struggling  up 
to  the  sky  for  light,  it  seemed  to  Helen  that  they 
were  stretching  away  from  the  earth,  lifting  their 
tufted  heads  to  the  heavens  to  call  down  mercy 
upon  the  wretched  world  beneath  them. 

The  negro  gang  was  just  crossing  the  plain,  on 
their  way  home  from  a  wood  where  they  had  been 
cutting  brush,  and  as  they  passed  the  ladies  they 
greeted  them  with  the  usual  Spanish  salutation, 
"  May  God  have  you  in  his  holy  keeping !  "  which 
probably  many  of  them  did  not  understand  them 
selves. 

A  single  garment  constituted  the  dress  of  each. 
The  men  wore  duck  pantaloons,  the  women  a 
short-sleeved,  low  chemise,  fitting  rather  tight. 
Neither  sex  had  any  protection  for  the  head,  but 
had  worked  all  day  under  the  eye  of  the  overseer, 
in  the  burning  sun,  scarcely  daring  to  raise  their 
heads  for  fear  of  the  impending  lash  of  the  exas 
perated  wretch,  who  was  obliged  to  superintend 
more  closely  than  usual,  since  he  had  disabled  his 
negro  driver.  The  superintendence  consists  in 
working  all  equally,  whether  able  or  not,  and 


THE  DRIVE. 


137 


quickening  the  laggards  by  the  application  of  the 
whip.  Is  it  surprising  that  when  their  tormentor 
has  to  turn  his  back  upon  one  gang,  to  visit  another 
at  some  other  spot,  they  all  rest  and  even  play, 
driver  and  all,  for  the  ten  or  fifteen  minutes  of 
exemption  ?  Yet  a  certain  amount  of  work  must 
be  done,  or  the  punishment  comes  at  the  end  of 
the  day. 

On  this  afternoon,  to  close  the  day's  work,  they 
had  been  sent  to  cut  brush,  and  were  returning, 
unusually  wearied  and  heavily  laden  and  foot-sore. 
There  were  brawny  men  and  stout  women  among 
the  recent  bozals,  but  others  were  bent  and 
feeble. 

Over  the  sad  faces  of  many  a  gleam  of  sunshine 
passed,  as  if  of  remembered  kindness,  and  dazzling 
and  angelic  must  have  been  the  vision  of  their 
lady  in  her  splendid  vehicle. 

One  tall,  slender,  but  athletic-looking  young 
woman  raised  her  eyes  for  a  moment  but  passed 
on  without  bending  her  head  or  uttering  a  word, 
or  making  a  gesture  of  salutation. 

"Did  you  remark  that  girl's  eye,  Helen?"  said 
the  Marquesa. 

"  I  did  indeed,"  she  replied.  "  She  looks  like 
poor  Dolores,"  was  the  passing  thought. 

It  was  indeed  poor  Dolores,  though  Helen  did 
not  realize  the  fact. 

"  I  never  saw  it  before,  but  I  am  glad  she  has 
looked  at  me  at  last.  She  is  a  recent  bozal,  and  I 


I38  THE  DRIVE. 

have  never  before  seen  her  but  with  downcast 
brow  and  eyes  averted.  No  one  has  ever  elicited 
anything  but  a  monosyllable  from  her,  and  she  has 
kept  very  much  to  herself,  the  women  tell  me.  I 
have  tried  some  of  my  arts  to  engage  her  attention, 
for  I  found  Pope  Urban  much  interested  in  her. 
She  is  a  native  of  the  same  tribe  as  himself,  and 
the  only  one  he  has  ever  seen.  I  am  afraid  this 
wicked  overseer  has  not  treated  her  well,  for  I  am 
sure  those  eyes  were  more  like  the  eyes  of  a  wild 
animal  than  of  a  human  being." 

"  The  expression  was  indeed  fearful,"  said  Helen. 
And  again  she  saw  the  resemblance  to  Dolores, 
but,  not  thinking  it  likely  to  be  she,  she  could  not 
bring  herself  to  tell  that  sad  story. 

As  they  crossed  from  one  plantation  to  another, 
they  passed  deep  forests  whose  verdure  was  fes 
tooned  together  by  giant  vines,  that  often  had 
smothered  and  hugged  the  life  out  of  the  trees 
that  supported  them ;  becoming  in  their  turn  the 
supporters,  and  flourishing  upon  the  juices  of  the 
trees  embraced,  they  had  usurped  the  domain  of 
earth  and  air,  which  were  the  original  possessors 
of  the  trees.  One,  more  remarkable  than  the  rest, 
had  been  chosen  as  the  entrance  to  the  avenue  of 
a  splendid  domain,  and  Urban  had  purposely 
brought  them  that  way  to  show  it  to  the  "  Ameri 
cana,"  and  now  drew  up  his  horses  under  the 
wonderful  natural  arch.  Two  giant  ceyba  or  cotton- 
wood  trees  that  stood  at  the  distance  of  thirty  feet 


THE   DRIVE. 


139 


from  each  other,  had,  early  in  their  growth,  crossed 
their  branches  thirty  feet  above  the  head  of  a  tall 
man,  and  both  trees  had  continued  to  grow,  had 
become  encircled  with  an  enormous  vine,  and  now 
presented  a  symmetrical  and  perfect  pointed  arch. 
The  two  had  then  shot  up  straight  into  the  air, 
joining  their  trunks  and  forming  a  double  column. 
The  intertwining  had  not  checked  their  growth, 
but  both  had  prospered. 

The  ceyba  tree,  whose  roots  appear  above  the 
ground,  and  seem  to  support  the  shaft,  shoots  up  to 
an  immense  height,  and  is  surmounted  by  a  crown 
of  leaves  of  very  delicate  form  and  texture,  so 
that  it  traces  a  fine  net-work  against  the  sky.  A 
huge  vine  of  the  boa-constrictor  species  had 
grown  up  by  the  side  of  this  one,  laying  its  own 
roots  parallel  with  the  enormous  cordages  thrown 
out  from  the  broad  spread  trunk,  which  balanced 
the  mighty  top,  and  thus  enabled  the  shaft  to  re 
sist  the  sweeping  tornadoes,  which  would  other 
wise  tear  it  from  its  bed.  The  vine  had  seemed 
to  respect  the  picturesque  arrangement  of  nature, 
for  it  did  not  begin  to  twine  around  the  tree  till  it 
had  grown  above  the  archway,  and  then  it  wound 
its  huge  spirals  about  them  both,  bedding  itself 
firmly  in  the  bark  as  it  grew,  till  the  enormous 
trunk  had  withered  in  its  embrace,  so  that  one 
side  of  the  arch  was  hollow  to  its  very  peak.  The 
delicate  foliage  of  the  vine,  adorned  with  pale  yel 
low  flowers,  crept  over  and  around  the  branches 


140 


THE   DRIVE. 


of  the  original  tree,  mingled  itself  with  the  few  re 
maining  living  twigs  of  one  portion  of  it,  and 
hung  its  luxuriant  tracery  in  the  most  graceful 
drapery  over  the  whole.  Our  stateliest  hemlocks 
hardly  compare  well  in  height  with  this  tropical 
tree.  Once  in  many  years  it  bears  flowers  and 
fruit,  which  latter  is  bedded  in  a  pod  of  the  soft 
est  and  silkiest  down,  not  yet  brought  within  the 
grasp  of  machinery,  but  used  for  beds  and  cush 
ions.  Just  after  the  dropping  of  the  pod,  the  tree 
loses  its  foliage  for  a  time,  but  its  symmetry  is  so 
exquisite  that  even  in  its  nakedness  it  is  sublime. 

La  Ascencion,  where  the  Marchioness  pro 
posed  to  make  a  call,  was  the  residence  of  Count 
von  Miiller,  one  of  the  few  Germans  to  be  met 
with  in  the  island.  The  approach  from  this 
unique  gateway  was  through  an  avenue  of  mango 
and  tamarind  trees,  that  skirted  a  deep  wood  on 
either  side.  The  mango  trees,  somewhat  resem 
bling  the  horse-chestnut  in  form,  were  weighed  to 
the  ground  with  the  brilliant  scarlet  and  orange, 
pear-shaped  fruit,  a  great  favorite  with  the  island 
ers,  when  cooked  as  a  sauce.  The  long,  shining, 
lanceolate  leaves  are  not  unlike  those  of  our  moun 
tain-laurel.  The  feathery,  acacia-like  foliage  of 
the  tamarind  contrasts  finely  with  these.  Under 
their  shade  grew  many  delicate  plants,  and  among 
the  rest  was  cultivated,  carefully,  one  that  is  gen 
erally  found  only  in  wild  woods  :  the  Campanula, 
a  shrub  surmounted  by  large,  white,  bell-shaped 


THE  DRIVE. 


141 


flowers  of  the  frailest  texture,  half  a  foot  in  length, 
and  of  exquisite  symmetry  of  shape.  They  looked 
like  spiritual  bells,  too  large  for  fairies,  but  too  del 
icate  to  be  handled  by  mortal  hands. 

In  a  circle  of  tea-roses,  all  in  rich  and  fragrant 
bloom,  stood  the  house  of  Count  von  Miiller.  Be 
hind  it  stretched  away  extensive  stone  coffee- 
driers,  skirted  in  their  turn  by  clay  cottages,  of 
tasteful  form,  the  habitations  of  the  negroes. 

When  they  drew  up  to  the  door,  a  huge  tur- 
baned  head,  surmounting  a  plump,  handsome  mu 
latto  face,  of  proportionate  dimensions,  was  thrust 
from  a  window,  and  as  quickly  withdrawn,  but  not 
till  the  beholders  had  had  a  full  view  of  massive 
gold  ear-pendants  and  necklace. 

In  a  few  moments,  the  portly  dame,  arrayed  in 
a  flowing  robe  of  fine  white  linen,  richly  embroid 
ered,  and  trimmed  with  lace,  stepped  upon  the 
gallery.  Count  Von  Miiller  was  not  in  the  house, 
and  a  rabble  of  naked,  black  children,  who  ran 
across  the  gallery,  were  bid  to  seek  him.  As 
they  stood  gazing  at  the  splendid  quitrin,  the 
portly  negress  enforced  her  words  with  a  stamp 
and  a  slap  or  two,  and  drove  them  before  her  like 
a  flock  of  geese,  or,  rather,  black  swans.  They 
dived,  jumped  from  the  gallery,  scampered  through 
the  hall,  and  fled  in  every  direction  ;  but  no  sooner 
had  the  ladies  alighted  and  seated  themselves  in 
the  cool  and  comfortable  boutacles,  than  they  saw 
woolly  little  heads  peeping  in  at  doors  and  windows. 


142 


THE  DRIVE. 


The  portly  mulatto  sauntered  out  into  the  gal 
lery  to  enforce  her  authority,  and  this  time  the 
warning  finger  was  accompanied  by  a  threat  which 
sent  the  naked  little  blackies  scampering  over 
the  coffee-driers,  as  if  to  seek  some  place  of 
safety. 

"  Count  von  Miiller  rules  five  hundred  slaves, 
and  Mariana  rules  Count  von  Miiller,"  said  the 
Marquesa,  by  way  of  explanation,  during  the  ab 
sence  of  that  potentate. 

"  Has  he  no  family?  " 

"  Yes,  if  you  can  call  half  a  dozen  of  these  little 
yellow  things  a  family.  His  lawful  children  are  in 
Europe  for  their  education,  for  his  wife  died  before 
he  came  here,  and  he  came  to  make  money  for 
them.  But  I  doubt  if  he  ever  returns,  for  he  has 
become  quite  a  Creole  in  his  domestic  habits,  and 
prides  himself  upon  his  model  plantation." 

Shocked  as  Helen  was  by  what  these  habits 
appeared  to  be,  she  was  glad  to  hear  of  a  model 
plantation,  and  pleased  herself  with  the  hope  that 
a  man  born  outside  of  slavery  institutions  might 
have  better  conceptions  of  humanity  than  even  an 
honorable  Spaniard  had  risen  to. 

The  return  of  the  mistress  of  ceremonies,  fol 
lowed  by  servants  bearing  golden  panetala  (the 
very  ideal  of  sponge  cake)  and  oranges,  already 
divested  of  their  yellow  skins,  cut  short  farther 
conversation  between  the  friends. 

In    a    few    moments    the    Count    von    Muller 


THE  DRIVE. 


143 


appeared,  a  stocky,  dumpy  German,  with  bald  head 
and  blue  eyes. 

The  Marquesa  was  a  great  favorite  of  his,  be 
cause  she  admired  his  plantation,  and  was  in  the 
habit  of  bringing  her  guests  to  see  his  improve 
ments. 

The  main  building  ran  all  round  a  quadrangle, 
and  they  immediately  began  their  walk  through  it, 
as  there  was  much  to  be  seen  which  Isabella 
justly  thought  would  be  pleasing  to  Helen,  and 
which  she  unfortunately  could  not  exhibit  at  home, 
for  Spaniards  follow  in  the  beaten  track,  and  even 
her  own  household  ameliorations  had  broken  in 
upon  time-honored  customs. 

Adjoining  the  mansion  was  a  large,  latticed  hall 
surrounded  by  a  balustrade,  and  the  ends  of  the 
gallery  that  ran  on  two  sides  of  it  were  secured  by 
wicker  gates.  In  this  hall  stood  innumerable  bas 
kets,  fitted  with  clean  cloths,  on  which  reposed  the 
future  coffee-pickers  of  the  plantation,  and  naked 
children  of  all  ages  above  these  babies  were  trot 
ting  about  under  the  care  of  two  nicely  dressed 
negro  women,  who  patted  the  babies  kindly,  and 
fed  them  out  of  civilized  bowls.  Next  to  this  hall, 
which  the  Count  facetiously  called  the  crying-room, 
and  where  a  good  deal  of  that  sort  of  music  was 
going  on,  as  is  the  case  even  in  nice  nurseries,  was 
the  picking-room,  a  long  corridor  with  glass  win 
dows  on  each- side,  an  almost  unheard-of  luxury  on 
Spanish  plantations,  even  in  the  apartments  of  the 


144 


THE  DRIVE. 


family.  Down  the  centre  of  this  corridor  ran  the 
plank  tables,  with  benches  on  either  side,  for  the 
sorters  of  coffee.  This  work  is  usually  done  in 
the  open  air,  but  the  negroes  suffer  much  from 
the  heavy  dews  of  the  island  in  their  early  morn 
ing  labors.  Then  came  the  packing-room,  in  which 
innumerable  empty  bags  were  stored,  this  not 
being  the  packing  season. 

Farther  on,  and  nearer  to  the  family  mansion,  on 
the  other  side,  was  the  hospital,  with  numerous 
appliances  for  the  comfort  of  the  sick.  There 
were  many  patients  in  this  hospital,  and  it  was  fre 
quently  suggested  by  the  Count's  friends  that  if  all 
his  plantation  arrangements  compared  well  with 
the  hospital,  there  must  be  less  occasion  than  in 
ordinary  cases  for  feigning  sickness.  Helen  was 
glad  to  see  coarse  straw  hats  on  both  men  and 
women ;  the  Marquis'  negroes  working  bare 
headed. 

When  the  ladies  ascended  the  extensive  driers 
that  lay  beyond  the  mansion,  they  had  a  fair  view 
of  the  neat  habitations  and  gardens  of  the  "  peo 
ple." 

It  was  plain  that  the  Count  pursued  a  different 
policy  from  the  ordinary  one  of  the  colonies  in  re 
gard  to  his  negroes.  Yet  his  wealth  was  the  envy 
of  all. 

As  the  party  turned  towards  the  house  again, 
they  passed  the  ample  stables.  Planters  pride 
themselves  upon  the  number  and  beauty  of  their 


THE  DRIVE.  !45 

horses,  and  no  one  surpassed  Count  von  Muller 
in  the  possession  of  fine  animals  of  the  noblest 
breeds. 

Helen  was  a  horsewoman,  and  knew  how  to 
appreciate  this  taste.  But,  as  she  turned  the  cor 
ner,  a  scene  characteristic  of  slave  institutions, 
even  under  the  mildest  regulation,  burst  upon 
her. 

A  group  of  colored  men  and  women  were  stand 
ing  under  a  tree,  to  which  was  chained  an  infuri 
ated  blood-hound,  from  whose  sides  blood  streamed 
upon  the  ground.  Two  negroes,  also  attached  to 
a  post,  at  a  little  distance  from  the  dog,  by  long 
ropes,  stood  bleeding  and  apparently  exhausted  ; 
one  held  a  whip,  which  was  stained  with  the  ani 
mal's  blood,  and  which  he  had  just  lifted  to  inflict 
another  blow,  when  the  overseer,  seeing  the  com 
pany,  arrested  his  arm.  But  he  could  not  prevent 
the  blood-hound  from  springing  and  gnashing  his 
teeth  at  the  negroes  who  were  within  reach  of  him, 
and  who  had  evidently  been  tormenting  him. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  ladies,"  said  the  Count, 
"  but  you  know,  my  lady,"  he  said,  apologetically 
addressing  la  Marquesa,  "  the  white  man  is  never 
bitten  on  my  plantation.  This  training  must  be 
attended  to." 

The  whole  truth  dawned  upon  Helen  in  a  mo 
ment.  The  next,  she  fell  heavily  upon  Isabella's 
arm,  and  slid  to  the  ground  in  happy  unconscious 
ness.  It  required  little  of  the  German's  supera- 


146  THE  DRIVE. 

bundant  strength  to  lift  her  from  the  ground  and 
carry  her  in  his  arms  to  the  house,  where  he  laid 
her  upon  a  couch. 

Isabella,  scarcely  more  able  to  walk  than  Helen, 
sank  into  a  chair  and  covered  her  face  with  her 
hands. 

Mariana  and  other  women  brought  water  and 
wine,  and  did  their  best  to  restore  the  horrified 
visitors.  Soon  the  room  was  partially  filled  with 
curious  lookers-on,  of  all  ages  and  complexions, 
but  a  furious  stamp  of  the  Count's  foot  and  a 
threatening  gesture  of  his  uplifted  hand  cleared 
the  space  of  intruders  at  once. 

Isabella  had  never  beheld  this  revolting  sight 
before,  though  she  well  knew  the  mode  of  training 
the  blood-hound  to  his  work.  As  soon  as  Helen 
opened  her  eyes,  her  friend  begged  the  Count  to 
place  her  in  the  carriage,  for  she  dreaded  the  repe 
tition  of  the  faintness,  or  the  burning  word  that 
might  burst  from  Helen. 

"  Your  friend  is  a  stranger,  I  see,  my  lady.  I 
regret  this  accident  very  much,"  were  his  parting 
words,  to  which  Isabella  made  a  faint  reply.  She 
felt  that  she  had  no  right  to  reproach  him. 

The  fresh  air  and  the  motion  soon  restored 
Helen  to  full  consciousness,  and  when  they  had 
driven  from  the  door  she  was  relieved  by  a  violent 
fit  of  weeping,  in  which  Isabella  joined  her. 

It  was  long  before  either  spoke.  At  last  the 
Marquesa  broke  silence. 


THE  DRIVE. 


147 


"  Ah,  dear  Helen  !  what  can  you  think  of  us  ?  I 
hoped  to  give  you  a  pleasant  picture  to  counter 
balance  your  sad  introduction  to  Cuban  life  —  and 
this  most  shocking  of  all  the  horrors  of  slavery," 
and  Isabella  wept  again  convulsively. 

Helen  could  not  raise  her  eyes  during  the  ride 
home.  She  did  not  wish  to  see  the  skies,  so  dese 
crated  by  the  earth,  over  which  they  hung  so 
lovingly  in  their  twilight  beauty.  Isabella  tried  to 
persuade  her  to  look  at  their  surpassing  colors, 
"  for,  as  I  often  remind  you,"  she  continued,  "  it  is 
God's  world  still."  But  Cuban  skies,  palm-trees, 
bamboo,  and  all  tropical  glories,  were  inevitably 
associated  henceforth  in  Helen's  mind  with  the 
unutterable  woes  of  humanity,  such  as  they  must 
be  where  the  first  principle  of  brotherhood  is 
violated. 

The  words  of  the  great  preacher  rang  in  her 
ears  —  "  The  sum  of  all  villanies." 

When  they  arrived  at  La  Consolacion,  she 
begged  the  Marquesa  to  excuse  her  to  the  family, 
and  went  at  once  to  her  own  room. 

The  Marchioness  had  admired  Count  von 
Miiller  for  his  benevolence,  with  apparent  justice. 
But  how  can  benevolence  comport  with  the  fact 
that  a  man  brought  up  in  free  society  goes  to  a 
slave-holding  country  for  the  purpose  of  making 
money  at  such  a  cost  ?  The  Count's  policy,  as  we 
have  said,  was  to  take  care  of  his  people's  health, 
for  he  thought  that  paid  better  in  the  end,  and  his 


1 48  THE  DRIVE. 

benevolence  to  white  men  induced  him  to  have 
his  dogs  well  trained  so  that  they  need  not  fall 
upon  any  one  but  a  fugitive  ;  but  the  rules  of  his 
plantation  were  very  rigid,  the  work  he  exacted 
very  severe,  the  punishments  for  delinquency  very 
terrible  when  they  came.  With  true  Anglo-Saxon 
sagacity,  he  saw  that  slackness  of  government 
produced  slackness  of  service  in  the  gentle  race  he 
domineered  over.  If  he  had  tried  the  plan  of 
giving  them  some  interest  in  their  labors,  he 
might  have  struck  something  out  of  human  souls, 
which  hold  all  germs  of  motives,  that  would  have 
made  them  labor  with  a  will  and  serve  his  interests 
too,  but  he  had  not  made  that  innovation  with  the 
rest,  and  even  comfortable  hospitals  and  picking 
rooms  did  not  preclude  the  necessity  of  using  force 
to  extract  the  amount  of  labor  he  required.  There 
is  no  North  Star  to  a  Cuban  slave,  but  there  are 
mountain  fastnesses  where  they  can  hide  and 
even  intrench  themselves.  He  boasted  that  he 
never  punished  the  same  individual  twice,  but 
what  did  that  imply  ?  The  blue  eyes  could  look 
soft  and  amiable  upon  an  admiring  friend,  but 
they  were  pitiless  when  they  looked  upon  the 
chattel  whose  blood  and  sinew  he  would  transmute 
into  gold. 

Blood-hound  training,  it  may  be  said,  to  the 
credit  of  most  masters,  is  not  usually  clone  upon 
the  plantations,  but  the  cruelty  is  only  once  re 
moved  by  being  perpetrated  elsewhere.  It 


SHE  DRIVE. 


149 


belongs  to  the  institution  of  slavery,  and  no 
sophistry  can  evade  the  imputation,  whether 
such  dogs  are  trained  by  the  overseers  in  Cuba, 
or  by  professional  negro-hunters  in  the  United 
States. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

JUANITA. 

ONE  day  when  they  were  alone,  Helen  begged 
her  friend  to  tell  her  the  history  of  Juanita,  who 
interested  her  deeply  by  her  sadness  and  her 
beauty.  The  whirl  of  events  had  prevented  her 
from  coming  much  in  contact  with  her,  but  she 
often  saw  her  bendirg  over  her  work,  in  the  Mar 
chioness'  apartment,  or  occupied  about  the  little 
children  in  the  nursery,  and  she  saw  Ludovico 
apply  to  her  as  to  a  sister  to  supply  his  little 
wants. 

"Juanita  is  so  different  from  the  rest  of  the 
people,  I  do  not  wonder  you  ask,"  said  the  Mar 
chioness. 

"  You  do  not  mean  that  she  is  a  slave,  Isabel," 
exclaimed  Helen,  almost  gasping. 

"Yes,  dear  Helen,  it  is  even  so,"  said  the 
Marchioness,  rising  to  close  the  door  into  her 
apartment,  which  Juanita  at  that  moment  entered. 

"Juanita  is  a  Moor,"  she  continued  ;  "you  per 
ceive  her  straight  hair  and  her  beautifully  chiselled 
features.  Her  grandmother  was  purchased  by 
my  father-in-law  in  a  cofrle  of  slaves,  of  which  she 

150 


JU ANITA.  i$i 

was  the  only  Moor.  They  are  not  often  enslaved. 
They  have  little  resemblance  to  other  negroes  ; 
indeed  they  are  not  negroes.  Juanita's  mother  was 
the  daughter  of  a  white  man,  and  that  bleached 
her  complexion.  Juanita's  has  been  still  farther 
changed  by  a  similar  parentage." 

"  Horrible  !  "  exclaimed  Helen. 

"  Ah,  yes,  dear,  the  fate  of  such  beautiful  girls 
is  sad  indeed,  but  not  so  in  their  eyes.  They 
would  no  more  take  a  negro  for  husband  than  you 
or  I  would,  but  have  a  pride  in  such  connections 
as  they  form,  that  seems  incredible  to  us,  and  yet 
I  do  not  know  why  I  should  say  so.  They  see 
that  white  men  are  superior  in  civilization  ;  they 
learn  to  be  ashamed  of  their  African  origin,  which 
they  often  deny.  Civilized  life  is  so  above  their 
own  degraded  condition,  that  it  is  not  strange  that 
they  wish  to  ally  themselves  with  it.  My  father- 
in-law  gave  the  mother  and  child  to  me  when  I 
was  married.  The  boy  was  as  beautiful  as  Juanita, 
but  we  were  obliged  to  send  him  away,  for  his 
independent  spirit  brooked  no  control." 

"  What  has  become  of  him  ? "  inquired  Helen. 

"  I  presume  he  is  in  the  city,  but  I  have  not 
heard  of  him  of  late.  He  was  named  Juan  de  la 
Luz  (John  of  the  Light.)  He  was  my  father-in- 
law's  special  pet  and  attendant.  He  was  full  of 
ability ;  was  a  good  locksmith,  kept  all  the  ma 
chinery  in  order,  and  contrived,  no  one  knew  how, 
to  learn  to  read.  Probably  through  this,  or  possi- 


I52  JU ANITA. 

bly  in  the  city,  where  he  often  accompanied  my 
father-in-law,  he  learned  of  the  English  treaty  by 
which  all  slaves  brought  to  the  island  after  a  cer 
tain  date  were  truly  free.  This  he  communi 
cated  to  his  mother,  and  Juanita  undoubtedly 
knows  it.  If  all  who  are  free  by  that  treaty  knew 
it,  we  might  be  overpowered  by  their  combined 
action  ;  but  the  whole  community  is  so  ignorant, 
the  standing  army  so  numerous  and  strong,  the 
government  so  despotic,  that  it  is,  to  all  intents 
and  purposes,  null  and  void.  The  Captain-Gen 
eral  has  his  royalty  upon  every  slave's  head,  and 
he  is  too  powerful  to  be  thwarted.  The  English 
commissioner,  who  resides  in  Havana,  told  me 
himself  that  his  office  was  a  sinecure,  and  always 
would  be  while  the  Captain-General  chose  to  con 
nive  at  slavery." 

"  What  corruption  !  "  was  all  Helen  could  ejacu 
late. 

"  Yes  ;  there  is  no  such  thing  as  fathoming  it. 
He  told  me  that,  if  he  confiscated  a  vessel  and 
threw  the  captain  in  prison,  in  a  few  weeks  the 
surgeon  of  the  prison  would  report  him  ill,  and 
request  a  permit  from  the  Captain-General  to  send 
him  into  the  country  for  his  health.  Soon  after, 
he  might  meet  him  in  the  streets  of  Havana,  par 
doned,  and  ready  to  sail  on  the  same  errand  again, 
in  a  new  vessel.  Usually,  the  landings  are  made  on 
unfrequented  parts  of  the  coast,  but  the  coffles 
are  openly  marched  through  the  country,  and  the 


JU ANITA.  ^ 

planters  purchase  many  on  the  way.  The  rest 
find  their  way  to  the  city,  or,  rather,  they  are 
smuggled  there  under  false  pretences,  and  are 
thrown  into  the  slave-pens,  where  old  slaves  are 
constantly  exposed  for  sale.  These  pens  used  to 
be  within  the  walls  of  the  city,  but  they  are  now 
outside." 

Helen  shuddered  at  the  recollection  of  all  she 
knew  on  that  fearful  subject,  and  would  fain  have 
asked  her  friend  if  she  knew  no  other  family  in 
Havana  to  whose  kindness  she  could  have  com 
mended  her  on  her  arrival  ;  but  she  forbore,  and 
only  asked  :  — 

""Where  is  Juanita's  mother  ?  " 

"  She  pined  away  and  died  of  a  broken  heart 
after  the  sale  of  her  son,  for  the  separation  was 
necessarily  a  final  one.  Every  means  had  been 
taken  to  break  Juan's  proud  spirit ;  but  he  was 
vain  —  he  loved  dress,  and  lavished  upon  his 
handsome  person  the  money  guests  lavished  upon 
him.  He  looked  like  a  prince  in  my  husband's 
splendid  livery.  He  bought  fine  shirts,  rings  for 
his  fingers  and  trinkets  for  his  ears,  and  put  on 
such  airs  that  he  was  unendurable.  He  was 
proud  of  his  nationality,  and  his  mother  cherished 
all  these  feelings  in  him.  Wherever  Juan  goes,  he 
will  make  trouble  with  the  slaves,  and  the  worst 
fate  awaits  him  if  he  does  not  get  to  the  moun 
tains.  I  do  not  know  but  he  might  become  a 
chief  among  the  fugitives  there.  They  often 


1 54  JUANITA. 

come  down  upon  the  plantations  at  the  foot  of 
the  mountains,  and  help  themselves  to  whatever 
they  wish  for." 

"  So  there  is  no  defence  against  them,  on  the 
plantations  ?  "  inquired  Helen.  "  I  should  think 
they  would  be  very  dangerous." 

"There  is  no  defence  but  the  blood-hound  and 
guards,  that  take  care  of  the  plantations  at  night, 
and  the  guards  themselves  are  slaves.  They  are 
a  timid  race,  and  a  few  resolute  persons  can  in 
timidate  them.  They  will  make  an  alarm  if  any 
one  comes  to  steal  the  horses,  but  they  would  be 
afraid  to  oppose  these  marauders,  who  bring  their 
own  dogs,  and  spread  terror  wherever  they  ap 
pear." 

Helen  breathed  more  freely.  She  was  glad 
God  had  made  mountains. 

"  How  can  you  make  a  distinction  between 
Juanita  and  the  other  slaves  ? "  she  asked. 

"  Oh,  that  has  taken  care  of  itself.  Her  mother 
was  my  mother-in-law's  maid,  and  always  lived 
near  her  person,  as  such  girls  do,  and  was  accom 
plished  in  every  pretty  and  useful  art.  In  almost 
every  family  you  will  see  one  of  these  girls  at 
tached  to  each  child,  but  it  is  a  source  of  great 
corruption.  I  have  known  of  unmentionable  evils 
growing  out  of  it.  My  children  have  had  no  pets 
or  servants  of  that  kind  but  Juanita,  who  is  thus 
far,  I  am  sure,  as  good  and  pure  as  any  of  us. 
She  was  a  happy,  merry  little  thing,  till  her 


JUANITA.  T^5 

brother  was  sent  away  and  her  mother  died.  She 
always  learned  everything  Ludovico  learned,  as 
she  peeped  over  his  shoulder  at  whatever  he  was 
doing ;  and  very  early  she  showed  a  wonderful 
genius  for  painting.  I  say  genius,  for  the  word 
talent  does  not  describe  it.  She  drew  beautifully, 
and  when  I  gave  her  colors  she  was  like  one  en 
tranced.  You  will  find  the  night-blooming  cereus, 
our  gigantic  ceyba  tree,  and,  indeed,  all  the 
peculiar  tropical  plants,  in  her  portfolios.  The 
walls,  as  I  have  told  you,  are  ornamented  by  her 
brush.  She  copies  from  nature  with  her  needle, 
as  well  as  her  pencil.  She  has  always  slept  in  her 
mother's  room,  adjoining  mine,  and  you  will  find 
every  inch  of  it  covered  with  her  productions. 
She  has  always  heard  me  read  to  Ludovico, — 
indeed,  she  is  scarcely  less  well  informed  than 
he  is. 

"  Perhaps  I  have  done  wrong  to  bring  her  up 
so ;  for,  if  I  should  die,  her  fate  might  be  very  sad. 
But  I  am  sure  Ludovico  would  protect  her  even 
from  himself,  and  so  would  my  husband  as  far  as 
he  could." 

"  She  ought  to  have  her  freedom,"  Helen  ven 
tured  to  say. 

"  Yes,  and  she  shall  have  it.  My  father  would 
never  free  them,  though  they  often  begged  him  to 
do  it,  but  my  husband  has  promised  to  do  it.  It 
would  make  but  little  difference  in  her  happiness, 
except  perhaps  in  her  imagination." 


156  JU ANITA. 

"And  that  is  everything,"  exclaimed  Helen. 
"  She  would  tell  you  differently  if  she  dared,  I 
think." 

"  Perhaps  so,  but  I  have  never  asked  her. 
While  her  mother  lived  and  Juan  was  here,  she 
seemed  happy.  She  is  not  so  now,  I  know.  She 
would  be  far  better  off  to  die,  too,  for  there  is  no 
career  for  freed  women  but  what  you  and  I  should 
call  infamy." 

"  They  would  at  least  own  themselves.  Do  not 
the  other  slaves  in  the  house  envy  her  position  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes,  indeed  !  and  Camilla  began  to  exer 
cise  dominion  over  her  as  soon  as  she  was  old 
enough  to  help  her  ;  but  I  put  a  stop  to  that  at 
once,  and  she  only  torments  her  as  she  does  me 
and  every  one  else." 

"  Why  do  you  keep  Camilla  in  your  house 
hold  ? " 

"  Because  she  knows  how  to  do  everything,  and 
I  cannot  keep  house  without  her.  That  she 
knows  this,  is  my  misfortune.  She  has  a  true 
genius  for  organization,  and  is  accomplished  in 
every  household  art.  She  has  her  corps  of 
sweepers,  house-washers,  dish-washers,  laundry- 
women,  errand-boys.  She  is  the  queen  of  pastry 
cooks.  In  that  little  pantry  from  which  you  see 
her  emerge,  she  performs  miracles  of  that  sort. 
It  is  a  small  place,  but  everything  in  it  is  kept  in 
neat  order,  and  out  of  it  come  the  rarest  viands, 
cakes,  custards,  tarts,  sweetmeats,  candied  fruits, 


JUANITA.  ^7 

and  all  the  devices  of  French  and  Spanish  cook 
ing.  She  can  always  judge  of  the  quantity  of 
food  to  be  provided  for  any  occasion,  and  has  her 
reserved  forces  for  an  emergency  —  saves  all  her 
nice  scraps  for  the  hospital,  and  never  is  so  com 
pletely  in  her  element  as  when  there  is  too  much 
to  do.  We  all  have  our  greatest  immunity  at  such 
times.  It  is  in  the  long  leisure  days,  when  the 
country  is  deserted,  that  we  surfer  most.  Her 
activity  has  then  no  other  objects  on  which  to 
expend  itself.  I  see  her  now  prowling.  This 
long  talk,  of  which  she  knows  herself  to  be  the 
subject,  makes  her  uneasy.  I  will  send  her  away 
on  some  errand.  Camilla,"  she  continued,  as  the 
old  woman  approached,  "  go  and  inquire  for  the 
new  baby  ;  —  perhaps  you  can  bring  it  over  for  us 
to  see." 

"Yes  —  my  lady  —  yes  —  new  baby"  —laughs 
to  herself  —  "very  pretty,  very  pretty,"  and  she 
slowly  descended  the  steps. 

"  She  does  not  wish  to  go.  She  suspects  that 
it  is  only  to  get  rid  of  her  that  I  send  her." 

"  What  a  life  of  slavery  it  is  for  you  ! "  ex 
claimed  Helen. 

"  Yes,  it  is  for  all  planters'  \vives  except  those 
who  leave  everything  in  the  hands  of  the  over 
seer;  but  that  involves  much  unjust  treatment,  and 
often  cruelty.  If  you  were  to  see  my  life  in  the 
season  of  sewing-work,  you  would  not  call  this 
slavery.  For  three  solid  months  I  cut  out  and 


l$S  JU ANITA. 

superintend  the  making  of  these  people's  clothes. 
The  women  sew  on  the  gallery,  under  my  super 
vision.  If  left  to  themselves,  the  work  would 
occupy  the  whole  year." 

"  Cannot  Mrs.  Warwick  relieve  you  of  this 
care  ? " 

"  I  tried  it,  but  they  will  obey  no  one  but  me. 
They  know  the  overseer  stands  at  my  right  hand, 
if  necessary,  and  they  are  afraid  of  him  though 
not  of  me,  but  my  personal  superintendence  pre 
cludes  the  necessity  of  his  services  except  on  rare 
occasions." 

"  I  understand  you,"  said  Helen.  "  Other 
women  do  not  always  stand  between  them  and 
punishment,  I  fear." 

"  Many  do.  But  it  is  more  economical  to  have 
the  work  done  as  quickly  as  possible,  that  the 
women  may  be  ready  for  other  uses.  The  field 
hands  always  come  in  to  share  the  work,  and 
that  gives  me  an  opportunity  of  contact  with 
them  all." 

"The  voice  of  kindness  must  be  a  balm  to  their 
souls  for  three  whole  months,"  said  Helen. 

Camilla  now  appeared  with  a  pretty  baby, 
wrapped  in  her  shawl,  which  she  laid  on  the  Mar 
chioness"  lap. 

"  Oh,  take  it  up  and  wrap  it  up  again  —  it  will 
have  the  lock-jaw.  Why  did  you  not  bring  it  in  a 
cloth  ? " 

"Lock-jaw  in  the  sunshine?  no,  lady  —  lock-jaw 


JU ANITA. 

in  the  dew  —  morning  —  evening  —  no  lock-jaw  in 
the  sunshine !  " 

"  I  believe  she  is  right,"  said  the  Marchioness. 

"  Is  lock-jaw  common  here  ?"  asked  Helen. 

"  Very  common,  and  in  that  way  mothers  dis 
pose  of  many  children,  if  they  are  not  watched." 

"  Isabel  !  I  cannot  believe  it  —  and  yet  why 
not  ?  It  must  be  to  save  them  from  a  worse  fate." 

"  Undoubtedly.  When  I  first  learned  the  fact, 
I  could  not  believe  it.  It  seemed  to  me  too  un 
natural.  Even  animals  passionately  love  their 
young  when  first  born.  When  I  was  convinced  of 
it,  I  resolved  to  be  present  at  every  birth.  My 
husband  laughed  at  me,  and  said  it  would  make 
no  difference  ;  that  at  any  time  within  three  weeks 
the  mothers  could  effect  the  object  by  laying  the 
naked  child  out  in  the  heavy  dew  for  a  few 
moments.  Planters  resort  to  every  sort  of  pun 
ishment  to  save  life,  though  not  for  humanity's 
sake.  My  husband  promised  a  reward  to  every 
woman  whose  child  lives,  but  nothing  broke  up 
their  habit  of  putting  an  end  to  them  till  he  had 
a  wooden  babe  bound  to  their  backs,  and  turned 
them  out  to  work  with  it  for  six  months.  Since 
that  time  the  practice  has  been  checked.  Slaves 
live  so  short  a  time  that  their  lives  are  very  valu 
able  after  they  come  to  working  age,  and  it  is 
cheaper  to  rear  them  on  the  plantations  than  to 
purchase  them." 

"But,  Isabella,  how  can  you  bear  it?     \Vhy  do 


160  JUAKITA. 

you  not  persuade  your  husband  to  leave  such  a 
country  ?  " 

"  Ah,  dear  Helen,  you  do  not  know  what  a 
Spaniard  is,  when  you  ask  that  question.  We  are 
not  very  wealthy,  and  where  would  be  our  means 
to  do  it  ?  I  have  the  kindest,  the  most  devoted 
of  husbands.  I  know  he  is  virtuous,  and  I  must 
be  satisfied  with  that.  Every  reasonable  wish  I 
have  is  gratified,  —  many  wishes  are  anticipated,  — 
but  he  would  be  out  of  place  elsewhere,  unless  he 
could  take  with  him  all  the  means  of  luxury  he 
enjoys  here.  We  may  be  called  rich  here —  else 
where  we  should  really  be  poor." 

"  I  fear  it  is  hopeless,  indeed,"  said  Helen,  "  but 
I  must  thank  God  that  I  am  under  no  such  neces 
sity." 

Camilla  wrapped  the  babe  in  her  shawl  again, 
meanwhile,  and  carried  it  away,  muttering,  "  No 
lock-jaw  in  the  sunshine !  dew  in  the  morning, 
evening  !  God  takes  the  babies,  poor  little  ones  !  " 

"  That  is  what  they  always  say,"  said  the  Mar 
chioness,  —  "  '  God  takes  the  babies/  —  and  I  as 
sure  you  I  never  mourn  for  them.  Camilla  says 
that,  wherever  they  are  buried,  their  bodies  go 
home  to  the  old  country.  This  is  said  to  be  an 
African  superstition,  and  there  must  be  consola 
tion  in  it." 

"  Perhaps  they  believe  in  the  worship  of  their 
ancestors,  like  the  Eastern  nations  in  general," 
said  Helen. 


CHAPTER   X. 

CAMILLA. 

ONE  morning,  Helen,  whose  northern  habits 
made  her  an  early  riser,  came  out  of  her  apart 
ment  a  little  after  dawn  to  enjoy  the  pure,  dewy 
breath  of  Nature  on  the  open  piazza..  Several 
rows  of  bed-chambers  skirted  the  salon  at  either 
end,  all  opening  on  one  or  the  other  piazza. 
Helen  had  never  ventured  abroad  alone  again, 
and  had  returned  so  late  from  the  evening  balls 
during  the  holidays  that  her  usual  morning 
habits  had  been  much  broken  in  upon.  She  now 
approached  the  salon,  where  she  encountered 
Camilla  and  her  satellites  making  ready  for  the 
day.  It  was  one  of  the  scenes  of  Camilla's  daily 
enjoyment,  because  it  was  an  occasion  of  exercis 
ing  power,  and  the  appearance  of  Helen  added 
zest  to  her  display. 

"Jose,  come  quick!  Wash  this  floor  the  very 
quickest !  Jose,  pour  a  tub  of  water  over  it !  " 

Enter  Francisca  with  another  tub  of  water  on 
her  head,  which  she  too  pours  over  the  floor. 

"Quick,  Fisca,  quick!  here  is  the  lady!  —  yes, 
there  she  is!  —  wants  to  sit  down! — all  water! — • 
don't  drown  the  lady  ! " 

161 


1 62  CAMILLA. 

Enter  Solidad  with  another  tub  of  water. 
Helen  turns  back. 

"  Ay,  here's  Solidad,  too  —  more  water  !  Ave, 
sanctissima !  Spiders,  lady!  ants,  lady!  much 
dust  !  Where's  Maria  ?  Where  are  the  cloths  ? 
Lady  cannot  sit,  must  walk.  No,  no  more  water! 
No,  Jose"  !  did  you  not  hear  ?  I  said  no  more 
water  !  Canailla,  don't  you  see  the  lady  ?  She'll 
be  tired  walking." 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  sit  down,"  said  Helen.  "  I 
prefer  to  walk,"  and  she  sauntered  down  the 
piazza.  But,  when  she  came  round,  Camilla  was 
ready  for  her. 

"  Ay,  yes,  lady !  not  been  sleeping  ?  French 
ladies  walk  —  no  dogs  on  the  piazza,  lady." 
(Laughs  mysteriously,  then  suddenly  drops  her 
head  on  her  shoulder.)  "  Poor  Carlo !  poor 
Jacobo  !  poor  Maraquita !  How  do  you  feel  this 
morning,  lady  ?  Are  you  well  ?  Very  glad,  very 
glad  !  Dance  much  ?  Not  at  all !  Ay  de  mi ! 
not  dance ! "  (Runs  in  for  a  chair.)  "  Here, 
lady,  here's  a  chair."  (Dusts  it  with  her  shawl.) 

"  I  prefer  to  walk,  thank  you,"  said  Helen. 

"  Walk  ?  Ay,  French  ladies  walk.  Poor  Carlo ! 
poor  Jacobo  ! " 

"  How  are  they  ?  "  Helen  ventured  to  inquire. 

Camilla  stopped,  looked  mysteriously,  put  her 
ringer  on  her  lips,  then  whispered,  "  Bad  ;  very 
bad ! " 

At  this  moment  a  boy  came  up  the  steps  with 


CAMILLA. 


163 


a  tub  of  water  for  the  piazza..  Camilla  arrested 
him.  "  Bad  boy !  Canailla  !  See  the  lady  ?  No 
water  here  !  "  (Strikes  him  with  her  broom.) 

"  I  will  walk  round  the  other  side,"  said  Helen. 

"  Oh,  ay,  thanks,  lady,  thanks !  ready  soon, 
ready  soon.  Here  comes  Josefa  with  the  cloths. 
Where  have  you  been  ?  sleeping  ?  eating  ?  Take 
that  ! "  (Strikes  Josefa  with  her  broom,  and 
snatches  the  cloths  from  her.) 

"  Go  in  now  and  wipe  the  floor ;  lady  walking  — 
wants  to  sit.  Sun  is  up.  Lazy  people  !  Where's 
Cecilia  ?  feeding  pigs  ?  hunting  hens  ?  Tell  her 
to  come  and  wipe  the  floor  quick  as  possible,"  and 
Camilla  continued  to  fly  round  among  her  subor 
dinates,  beating  one  with  her  broom,  pushing  an 
other  into  the  water,  snatching  the  cloths  away 
and  throwing  them  about,  when  suddenly  she 
heard  the  voice  of  her  master,  who  opened  his 
door  and  called  out,  "  Coffee  !  " 

"  Yes,  senor ;  yes,  indeed.  Ave,  sanctissima  ! 
master  wants  his  coffee  !  Yes,  senor  ;  yes,  senor. 
Master  calls  —  wants  his  coffee  —  going  to  ride  — 
good  master,  takes  care  of  the  people.  Canailla ! 
not  worth  it !  Cecilia,  wipe  the  floor  !  What  are 
you  standing  there  for  ?  I  can't  do  everything. 
Master  in  haste  —  wants  his  coffee — going  to 
ride." 

The  Marquis  again  opens  his  door,  and  says 
"Coffee!" 

"  Yes,  senor,  yes,  yes  !  " 


CAMILLA. 

Disappears  into  her  pantry,  and  soon  emerges 
with  the  coffee,  which  she  carries  to  the  door, 
wading  through  the  water. 

"  Canailla,  wipe  the  floor.  See  my  wet  feet ! 
Now  for  the  toothache  !  " 

Manuel  comes  out  of  the  nursery,  and  wades 
through  the  water. 

"  Ave,  sanctissima !  see  the  nino!  Shoes  all 
wet  !  Where's  nurse  ?  sleeping  ?  " 

"  I  want  some  oranges.  I  am  going  to  ride 
with  papa,"  exclaimed  Manuel.  "What  do  you 
have  it  so  wet  here  for,  you  silly  old  woman  ? " 

Enter  Mrs.  Warwick. 

"  Manuel !  Manuel !  come  to  me  !  Don't  walk 
in  that  water !  Now,  I  must  change  your  shoes  ! 
How  could  you  !  " 

"  How  could  I  help  it  ?  That  silly  old  woman 
always  floods  the  piazza,  just  so.  She  is  a  great 
fool!" 

He  sees  Helen  passing  by,  and  looks  a  little 
ashamed  of  his  cross  tones. 

Helen  held  out  her  hand  to  him.  "  I  would  not 
call  people  fools,  dear." 

"People!"  repeated  Manuel,  as  he  walked  on 
with  her.  "Is  Camilla  a  people?  " 

"  Just  as  much  as  you  are,  I  think.  You  would 
not  like  to  be  called  a  fool." 

"  No,  indeed  ;  but  I  never  thought  Camilla  was 
like  us.  But  then  she  is,  only  she  has  a  black 
face,  and  is  a  stupid  —  I  won't  again.  But  see 


CAMILLA. 


I65 


how  they  wet  everything.  I  never  can  get  out 
when  I  get  up  early  in  the  morning  to  ride  with 
papa  without  getting  my  feet  wet.  I  used  to  ride 
with  Carlo,"  and  here  Manuel's  heart  stopped 
him.  He  could  only  say  "  Poor  Carlo  ! "  and  his 
lips  quivered. 

"Nino  Manuel,  where  are  you?  Here  are  the 
oranges.  Oranges,  lady  ? "  offering  some  to 
Helen. 

Mrs.  Warwick  brought  out  a  chair  for  Helen, 
who  sat  down  and  partook  of  the  cool,  sweet  fruit, 
so  different  from  oranges  in  the  States. 

"These  people  are  so  stupid!"  said  Mrs.  War 
wick.  "  Do  look  out  the  window,  ma'am,  and  see 
those  wenches  drawing  those  cloths  across  the 
floor  like  so  many  pocket-handkerchiefs.  That's 
the  way  they  do  things  here.  I  tried  to  teach 
them  how  to  wring  them  into  the  tubs,  but  it  is 
no  use.  They  never  saw  a  mop,  which  might  be 
such  a  saving  to  their  backs  ;  and  they  don't  know 
when  they  have  got  enough  water  on.  I  believe 
that  old  woman  calls  for  more  and  more  tubs  full, 
just  to  plague  them  and  keep  them  at  it  two  hours 
every  morning,  when  it  might  all  be  done  just  as 
well  in  one ;  but  it  only  makes  matters  worse 
when  I  meddle,  so  I  say  nothing ;  but  my  back 
often  aches  for  those  poor  gals  she  totes  round. 
I  often  wish  I  was  out  of  it.  I  know  that  —  " 

"  What  would  the  Marchioness  do  without 
you?"  Helen  replied,  soothingly. 


j65  CAMILLA. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know  it  ;  that's  the  reason  I  stay. 
I  would  not  see  these  children  in  their  hands, 
for  any  money." 

Camilla  could  not  bear  this  any  longer.  She 
had  been  bustling  in  and  out  with  oranges  and 
golden  panetela,  and  now  she  appeared  —  with 
Jose  behind  her,  carrying  a  tub  of  water  for  that 
gallery. 

"  Pardon,  lady !  much  pardon  !  Other  piazza. 
ready  now.  Time  to  wash — spiders,  ants,  much 
dust !  "  Takes  up  Helen's  chair,  and  runs  round 
the  house  with  it. 

"  Mumma  Camilla,  that's  my  chair  !  "  calls  out 
Mrs.  Warwick.  But  Camilla  does  not  heed,  and 
disappears  round  the  corner  with  it. 

"  Plague  on  her !  I  shall  not  get  hold  of  that 
chair  again  for  a  week.  Oh,  she  is  a  trial  !  " 

Helen  follows  the  chair,  after  bidding  Mrs. 
Warwick  a  kindly  good-morning. 

"  Oh,  you  must  see  me  mount  my  pony,  Aunt 
Helen  ! "  said  Manuel,  seizing  her  by  the  hand. 
"  She  is  such  a  pretty  little  horse !  Won't  you 
ride  with  me  some  day  ?  You  can  take  mama's 
horse." 

"I  should  like  to  very  much." 

Jose  had  waited  respectfully  till  Miss  Went- 
worth  moved  away,  but  Camilla  hailed  him  from 
afar. 

"  Boy  !  lazy  dog  !  put  the  water  on  !  " 

"  Always  scolding  !  "  muttered  Jose. 


CAMILLA. 


167 


"  What  did  you  say  ?  Take  that,  Canailla  !  " 
rapping  him  with  her  broom,  and  at  the  same  time 
knocking  the  tub  of  water  off  his  head,  wetting 
him  from  top  to  toe.  "  Good  enough  for  such ! 
Work  away  now ;  soon  the  gentlemen  will  come 
out,  and  all  wet  and  soppy.  Cecilia !  Maria ! 
Josefa !  bring  your  cloths  ;  go  to  work.  What 
are  you  good  for  ?  " 

Mrs.  Warwick  appears  at  the  door  of  her  room, 
and,  in  a  deprecating  tone,  remonstrates  in  broken 
Spanish  against  quite  so  much  noise  while  the 
children  are  sleeping.  Having  given  the  hint, 
she  closes  her  door  again  without  waiting  for  a 
reply. 

"  Old  Americana,  keep  in  your  own  basket ! 
Don't  talk  to  me  !  "  But  nevertheless  there  is  a 
lull  in  the  confusion  for  a  few  moments ;  for  the 
Marquis  opens  his  door,  and  inquires  for  the 
horses. 

"Less  noise  here,  people!  your  lady  is  sleeping! 
Where  are  the  horses  ?  Jose,  go  for  the  horses  ! 
Have  they  been  forgotten  ?  I  am  in  haste." 

Jose  runs  down  the  steps. 

"Ay  de  mi!  The  senor  waiting!  Urbano 
not  coming!  bad  people!  Canailla!  no  horses 
for  the  senor  and  the  niiio  !  Ave,  sanctissima!  " 

"  You  confuse  every  one  with  your  noise  and 
your  tubs  of  water  in  the  morning,"  said  the  Mar 
quis.  "  What  is  the  need  of  making  the  floor  so 
wet  ?  It  is  not  necessary." 


1 68 


CAMILLA. 


Camilla  began  to  excuse  herself.  "Jose,  Pablo 
—  two  fools  ! — put  on  too  much  water  !  " 

"  It  is  no  one's  fault  but  yours,  and  don't  do  it 
again,"  replied  the  Marquis,  as  he  walked  out 
upon  the  gallery. 

Camilla  made  no  reply,  but  stood  motionless, 
her  long,  orang-outang  arms  hanging  limp  at 
her  sides,  and  her  eyelids  cast  down,  until  he  was 
fairly  out  of  sight,  when  she  disappeared  into  her 
pantry,  leaving  the  women  giggling  to  themselves 
at  her  expense,  and  Jose's  mouth  stretched  from 
ear  to  ear. 

But  the  next  morning,  salon  and  galleries  were 
wholly  unwashed,  and  great  was  the  annoyance  of 
ants,  spiders,  and  dust  all  day.  There  was  no 
time  to  ask  explanations,  and  only  Helen  and 
Mrs.  Warwick  could  account  for  the  neglect. 

So  Camilla  had  her  way,  and  after  that  the 
flooding  went  on  as  usual,  with  perhaps  a  little 
less  screaming  and  bustle ;  for  Camilla  did  care 
for  being  found  fault  with  by  her  master. 


CHAPTER    XL 

THE    CHICKEN-HOUSE. 

THE  chicken-house  was  a  long  cabin  built  of 
bamboo  sticks,  like  the  habitations  of  the  negroes. 
It  stood  on  the  edge  of  a  little  pool  of  water, 
tinged  deep  red  by  the  colored  earth  of  the  island, 
and  had  in  former  days  been  a  home  for  turkeys 
and  other  fowl,  whence  its  name.  It  was  now 
used  as  a  sort  of  nursery  for  the  children  of  the 
plantation,  where  a  superannuated  negress  took 
charge  of  the  little  ones,  while  the  mothers  were 
absent  in  the  field.  At  nightfall  they  were  again 
given  in  charge  to  their  mothers. 

Old  Panchita,  "  the  brooding  hen,"  as  she  was 
called,  was  a  woman  of  experience.  She  was  one 
of  the  oldest  inhabitants  of  the  plantation,  and  in 
her  youth  had  been  a  favorite  house-servant  and 
nurse,  being  both  capable  and  amiable ;  but  when 
no  longer  wanted  to  take  care  of  her  master's  chil 
dren,  she  had  been  installed  as  a  nurse  over  the 
children  of  the  slave  mothers.  A  natural  love  of 
the  young  fitted  her  for  this  office,  but  it  was  a 
trying  one,  and  mumma  Panchita's  patience  was  a 
little  threadbare,  and  was  not  always  proof  against 

169 


I/O 


THE   CHICKEN-HOUSE. 


these  trials.  It  was  quite  as  much  of  a  task  as  she 
was  equal  to  to  administer  food  to  the  babes,  who 
were  deposited  in  small  wooden  boxes  about  the 
edges  of  the  building,  and  who  lay  pretty  content 
edly  upon  their  backs  if  they  were  not  hungry  or 
bitten  by  mosquitoes  and  neguas,  that  infest  the 
human  foot  in  tropical  climates.  A  good  mother 
can  easily  judge  how  often  these  contented  inter 
vals  occurred  among  forty  or  fifty  babies  under 
the  circumstances  of  a  mud  floor  and  a  neigh 
boring  laguna,  and  one  old  woman  as  feeder,  be 
sides  having  to  spank  into  submission  those  who 
were  old  enough  to  crawl  in  and  out  of  the  cabin, 
or  to  pick  them  out  of  the  laguna,  into  which  some 
of  them  were  always  tumbling,  and  to  threaten  the 
still  older  ones  with  the  lash  of  the  overseer, 
which  came  quite  often  enough,  under  Don  Er- 
mite's  reign,  to  make  the  threat  overpowering  — 
not  that  mumma  Panchita  ever  invoked  it  —  no  ! 
poor  soul !  She  had  given  birth  to  and  lost  too 
many  children  of  her  own  to  do  that.  Some  had 
been  sold,  others  had  died  of  hard  work.  She  did 
not  know  where  the  living  ones  were.  She  often 
thanked  God  for  having  taken  the  others.  Great 
vicissitudes  had  mumma  Panchita  seen.  Once  a 
petted  servant,  living  amidst  family  comforts,  then 
cast  out  into  the  negro  quarters  to  take  care  of 
too  many  children,  whom  she  must  see  suffer 
under  her  eyes,  and  she  tender-hearted  !  Every 
woman  who  expected  to  bring  a  child  into  the 


THE   CHICKEN-HOUSE. 


171 


world  wanted  her,  because  she  was  skilful  and 
kind.  At  night,  when  the  mothers  took  their 
children  to  their  own  cabin,  she  visited  the  sick 
who  had  sent  for  her,  and  shared  their  lamenta 
tions  when  they  found  themselves  the  mothers  of 
daughters,  and  was  not  sorry  when  God  took  them 
by  the  lock-jaw.  He  would  have  taken  them 
oftener,  if  the  mothers  had  dared  to  let  him  do  it  ! 
but  a  too  frequent  repetition  of  this  permission  was 
dangerous. 

This  habit  of  slave-mothers,  which  has  often 
been  adduced  as  a  proof  of  innate  depravity  and 
barbarism,  looks  far  otherwise  to  the  philosophic 
mind.  Enforced  motherhood,  which  is  the  rule  in 
slavery,  has  none  of  the  holy  sanctions  thrown 
around  it  by  human  love,  and  yet  so  strong  is  the 
maternal  feeling  that  when  these  children  are  old 
enough  for  natural  interchange  of  sympathy  and 
affection  with  their  parents, —  in  short,  when  they 
have  become  persons,  — the  bond  is  a  very  tender 
one,  and  the  poor  slave-mothers'  hearts  are  wrung 
with  as  bitter  anguish  at  the  sufferings  of  their 
children,  or  their  separation  from  them,  as  those  of 
happy  mothers.  The  attachment  of  these  people 
to  the  children  of  their  masters,  whom  they  nurse 
and  fondle,  shows  the  strength  of  the  natural  sen 
timent.  It  cannot  be,  then,  that  the  slave-mother 
lets  God  take  her  child  when  it  first  sees  the 
light,  because  the  maternal  feeling  is  not  awakened 
with  its  new  life,  but  because  she  dreads  for  it 


172 


THE   CHICKEN-HOUSE. 


such  a  wretched  existence  as  her  own.  Driven  to 
her  work  as  long  as  she  can  stand,  before  the  birth, 
unbefriended  in  the  hour  of  greatest  peril  and 
suffering,  unaided  and  unsolaced  in  the  early  cares 
of  her  travestied  maternal  life,  and  so  soon  de 
prived  even  of  the  privilege  of  exercising  that  care, 
for  she  is  immediately  turned  back  again  into  the 
field,  and  only  sees  it  when  too  wearied  at  night 
to  enjoy  it,  how  natural  to  wish  the  young  crea 
ture  safe  in  God's  keeping  —  for  these  uncultivated 
savages  really  believe  in  a  presiding  deity,  little  as 
they  see  any  outward  testimony  of  his  existence. 
The  phrase  they  use  about  these  mysterious 
deaths,  so  conclusively  traced  to  their  own  act, 
proves  this  faith. 

One  of  mumma  Panchita's  chief  occupations 
was  picking  neguas  out  of  the  children's  feet, 
which  she  did  with  a  sharp  thorn  and  hot  grease 
(a  darning-needle  and  some  hot  tallow  are  used  in 
the  upper  circles  for  the  same  purpose,  for  the 
inmates  of  the  great  house  are  by  no  means  safe 
from  the  invasion  of  this  pest).  This  operation  is 
not  agreeable  to  the  victim,  but  on  its  faithful 
performance  depends  the  fact  of  having  any  toes 
left,  and  Panchita  was  partly  responsible  for  the 
embryo  slave  having  those  useful  appendages  left, 
or  even  any  feet  at  all,  for,  as  soon  as  this  little  flea 
is  imbedded  below  the  third  layer  of  the  skin,  it 
lays  a  bag  of  eggs,  which  incontinently  becomes 
huge,  and  the  progeny,  instantly  developed,  eat 


THE   CHICKEN-HOUSE. 


173 


their  way  still  farther  in,  each  laying  her  respec 
tive  sack  of  eggs.  This  responsibility  Panchita 
shared  with  the  mothers,  whose  first  duty  on  tak 
ing  their  children  to  their  own  cabins  at  nightfall  is 
to  see  that  the  feet  are  safe,  and  the  "  brooding 
hen  "  is  sure  to  hear  of  it  if  she  has  not  done  her 
work  faithfully  up  to  that  time.  The  sounds  that 
issued  from  the  chicken-house  made  it  very  easy 
for  any  one  to  find  the  spot  who  walked  that  way. 
Just  as  mumma  Panchita  was  performing  a  boring 
operation  upon  a  little  foot,  Camilla  made  her 
appearance,  and  inquired  for  a  little  goddaughter 
of  her  own,  whose  services  she  needed  in  the  ab 
sence  of  the  members  of  poor  Carlo's  family.  The 
little  girl  in  question  was  one  of  the  oldest  chil 
dren,  and  quite  useful  to  Panchita,  who  was  not 
willing  to  part  with  her. 

"  Ave,  Maria  sanctissima  !  "  exclaimed  Camilla, 
"  are  you  killing  that  poverecita  ?  poverecita,  what 
a  cruel  nurse  you  have  !  " 

"  Cruel  !  what  do  you  mean,  you  old  monkey," 
said  poor  Panchita.  "  I  am  only  saving  the  poor 
little  foot,  which  is  almost  a  honeycomb  now  — 
there,  little  one  !  now  lie  down  and  cry  yourself  to 
sleep  ;  and  if  you  cry  yourself  to  death,  so  much  the 
better." 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  Camilla,  "poor  people  ! — poor 
people  !  —  better  let  God  take  them  !  —  poor  Car 
lo!—" 

"  Hush,  old  fool !  "  said  Panchita,  "it  is  time  for 


174 


THE    CHICKEN-HOUSE. 


Don  Ermite  to  come  —  don't  let  him  hear  you 
pitying  any  one." 

She  had  no  sooner  uttered  the  words  than  Don 
Ermite  rode  up  to  the  door,  and,  with  a  flourish  of 
his  long  riding-whip,  which  never  spared  old  or 
young,  asked,  with  a  Spanish  oath,  if  all  the  chil 
dren  were  there. 

"  Yes,  master,  all,"  said  Panchita.  "  Come  here, 
children  ;  here's  the  master  !  " 

Suddenly,  like  a  flock  of  partridges  that  had 
hid  in  the  grass,  the  children  rose  up  from  behind 
cradle  boxes,  or*  dropped  down  from  the  roosts 
that  still  remained  stretched  across  the  chicken- 
house,  or  appeared  from  the  high  weeds  on  the 
margin  of  the  laguna. 

"  What  are  you  all  hiding  for  ?  and  whom  are  you 
afraid  of,"  said  the  brutal  overseer,  accompanying 
his  words  with  another  slash  of  his  heavy  whip, 
which  made  many  of  the  children  scream  out  with 
pain. 

"  Hold  your  tongues  while  I  count  you,  or  I'll 
cut  deeper,"  and  with  these  words  he  made  a 
second  application  of  his  lash,  which  hushed  the 
terrified  children  into  silence. 

After  counting  the  outsiders,  Don  Ermite  de 
scended  from  his  horse,  and  entered  the  cabin  to 
count  the  babies.  Camilla  had  stepped  out  of 
sight,  but  he  now  saw  her  again,  and  recognized  her. 

"What  are  you  here  for  so  early  in  the  morning, 
old  woman  ? "  he  said,  in  a  milder  tone,  for  he  was 


THE   CHICKEN-HOUSE. 


175 


not  pleased  to  see  a  house-servant  there  just  after 
he  had  been  in  disgrace  with  the  Marquis. 

"  I  came  to  find  Muerta-Viva,  to  help  me  in  the 
pantry,  ini  alma,"  she  said,  humbly,  for  mumma 
Camilla  was  a  little  frightened. 

"Muerta-Viva?  who  is  that?  where  are  you?" 
he  said,  fiercely  to  the  frightened  group  of  chil 
dren. 

A  slender  little  girl  of  seven  came  timidly  out 
of  the  crowd,  and  stood  before  him.  She  did  not 
look  as  robust  as  the  other  children,  and  had  a 
limp  in  her  gait. 

"What  are  you  good  for?"  said  the  brute,  "and 
where  did  you  get  that  limp,"  he  added,  jerking 
her  by  the  arm. 

"  Fell  off  the  roost ! "  was  the  scarcely  audible 
reply  of  the  little  cripple. 

"  Go  with  the  old  woman,  and  see  if  you  can  do 
something,"  he  said,  a  little  softened,  not-  by  hu 
manity,  but  because  he  was  disturbed  at  having 
been  caught  in  his  brutal  treatment  by  such  an 
important  official. 

Children  are  leniently  treated  on  decent  planta 
tions.  It  is  important  to  their  future  usefulness 
that  they  be  well  fed  and  propitiated,  the  latter 
being  done  with  small  coins  and  confectionery 
thrown  to  them.  Under  the  former  overseer  these 
children  had  led  a  comparatively  happy  life,  as 
happy  as  it  could  be  with  neguas  in  their  feet  and 
with  mumma  Panchita's  spankings,  which  were 


176  THE   CHICKEN-HOUSE. 

frequent  though  not  cruel,  but  she  must  train  the 
older  ones  to  help  her  take  care  of  the  little  ones, 
and  they  did  not  always  mind  her  the  first  time 
she  spoke,  any  more  than  little  white  children  in 
nice  nurseries  mind  their  nurses  or  even  their 
mamas  ! 

They  were  allowed  to  pick  up  oranges  when 
they  could  get  a  run  into  the  orange  avenues  ;  and 
now  they  joyfully  ran  to  their  respective  cabins 
for  the  gourds,  for  Don  Ermite's  last  words  were, 
— "  See  that  you  water  the  new  borders  in  the 
mango  avenue  before  noon,  or  I'll  give  you  all  a 
lashing ! " 

Perhaps  they  should  see  Tom  the  cook,  who 
often  saved  broken  food  for  them  ;  perhaps  they 
should  find  some  plantains !  Don  Ermite  had 
gone  to  the  field,  and  the  naked  little  things 
swarmed  like  ants  back  and  forth  from  the  red 
laguna  to  the  mango  avenue  by  all  sorts  of  cir 
cuits  and  winding  ways,  with  the  gourds  deftly 
poised  on  the  tops  of  their  heads,  on  their  return 
taking  the  great  house  on  their  way,  scampering 
up  the  steps  and  across  the  gallery,  peeping  in  at 
the  windows,  and  watching  the  proceedings  of  the 
household  slaves.  Plantation  manners  are  very 
easy  in  these  points  of  taste,  and  strangers  soon 
get  broken  in  to  the  spectacle. 

Mumma  Panchita  had  a  long  interval  of  silence, 
for  the  care  of  her  babes  and  other  small  fry  not 
old  enough  to  be  watering-pots.  They  will  be  sure 


THE   CHICKEN-HOUSE. 


177 


to  come  to  their  bacallao  (salt-fish)  when  the  bell 
rings  at  noon,  especially  as  Don  Ermite  will  then 
come  from  the  field. 

Mumma  Panchita  had  much  food  for  thought 
when  she  had  time  for  it.  She  did  not  even  hear 
the  babies  cry  when  she  was  thinking  of  her  own 
lost  ones.  Her  two  pretty  daughters  had  been 
sold  for  their  beauty,  to  high  bidders,  to  pay  a 
gambling  debt,  and  it  was  her  grief  at  that  event 
that  had  made  her  intolerable  in  the  family,  and 
led  to  her  instalment  in  her  present  office. 

"  Where  are  they  ?  "  was  her  constant  cry,  and 
she  had  grown  prematurely  old  uttering  it. 

Muerta-Viva,  or  Dead-Alive,  was  an  unfortunate 
little  girl,  who  one  day  fell  from  one  of  the  roosts, 
where  she  was  perched  at  play,  and  fractured  her 
hip,  which  was  never  rightly  cured,  and  she  had 
been  thus  made  a  cripple  for  life.  She  was  only 
three  years  old  when  the  accident  happened,  and 
her  father  and  mother  had  quarrelled  and  been 
separated,  —  as  is  often  the  case  with  the  slaves, 
who  are  bound  together  by  no  marriage  tie,  and 
are  not  allowed  to  live  together  unless  in  har 
mony,  for  that  would  not  be  profitable  to  the  mas 
ter.  The  father  always  took  Muerta-Viva  at 
night,  and  was  very  tenderly  attached  to  her,  so 
that  she  enjoyed  some  advantages  over  the  rest. 
He  bought  for  her  gay  trinkets  of  the  pedlers, 
often  took  her  to  ride  with  him  when  he  watered 
the  horses,  for  he  was  a  calesero  ;  and  Camilla 


!-r8  THE   CHICKEN-HOUSE. 

happened  to  have  taken  a  fancy  to  her,  so  that 
she  was  often  brought  into  the  pantry  for  useful 
offices  —  such  as  beating  eggs,  running  of  little 
errands  to  Tom  the  cook,  or  picking  up  sticks  for 
Camilla's  brazier. 

Muerta-Viva's  father  and  mother  had  quarrelled 
for  some  domestic  reason,  unknown  to  the  public. 
Each  mother  has  a  cabin  assigned  to  her,  in  virtue 
of  her  being  a  mother,  which  cabin  is  her  castle. 
The  father  had  been  turned  out,  and  no  objection 
had  been  made  to  his  taking  the  little  cripple  to 
his  own  bosom  at  night ;  for  the  mother  had  other 
children  to  take  care  of,  and  her  anger  against 
the  father  extended  to  his  favorite  child.  He 
could  keep  an  eye  upon  her  at  all  times  of  the  day, 
as  he  was  a  calesero  (coachman),  and  not  on  duty 
in  the  hated  field,  where  neither  men  nor  women 
owned  even  their  own  eyes,  or  the  direction  in 
which  they  should  look.  Since  the  cruel  overseer 
had  been  on  the  plantation,  Tono  had  suffered 
much ;  for  he  knew  how  brutally  the  wretch 
slashed  his  whip  over  the  children's  shoulders, 
when  out  of  sight  of  the  house,  and  he  had  begged 
hard  to  send  this  child  to  his  mother,  in  Havana, 
when  Carlo  went  for  the  American  lady.  Mrs. 
Warwick  knew  his  wish,  and  would  have  taken 
kind  care  of  it  ;  and  Tono  had  procured  a  nice 
little  dress  for  her,  with  some  of  his  chicken- 
money,  and  a  sewing  woman  had  made  it  neatly, 
and,  dressed  in  this  gown,  and  some  red  shoes  and 


THE   CHICKEN-HOUSE. 


179 


a  shawl,  he  came  to  prefer  his  request.  But,  as 
Tono  was  a  little  pretentious,  it  was  thought  best 
to  refuse  this  very  reasonable  request ;  his  quarrel 
with  his  wife  had  also  subjected  him  to  punish 
ment,  according  to  the  plantation  rule.  Masters 
cannot  be  disturbed  by  servants'  quarrels,  and 
servants'  hearts  are  not  supposed  to  be  made  of 
the  same  stuff  as  masters'  hearts.  A  compliance 
with  this  request  would  have  appeased  the  smart 
ing  pride  of  Tono,  who  could  no  longer  boast  of 
never  having  been  punished ;  but  the  rule  of 
action  is,  "Their  spirits  must  be  broken."  The 
negro  race  is  wonderfully  forgiving,  and  suscep 
tible  to  kindness,  and,  in  this  instance,  certain 
little  tender  relations  had  been  established  be 
tween  Muerta-Viva  and  the  children  of  the  family, 
as  she  was  often  allowed  to  come  and  assist 
Camilla  ;  otherwise,  Tono  might  have  been  a  dan 
gerous  enemy.  Helen  learned  the  particulars 
from  Mrs.  Warwick,  whose  room  was  opposite 
Camilla's  pantry.  When  the  door  was  open,  she 
could  see  Muerta-Viva  perched  on  the  shelf, 
where  Camilla  always  kept  her  when  unemployed, 
for  fear  she  would  run  away.  There  her  wistful 
eyes  gazed  at  the  children,  with  whom  she  was 
not  allowed  to  play,  but  who  would  roll  oranges 
into  the  pantry  for  her,  and  run  to  mumma 
Camilla's  door  with  little  playthings  for  her. 
Muerta-Viva  had  touched  some  tender  chord  in 
old  Camilla's  heart,  and,  when  not  occupied  with 


THE   CHICKEN-HOUSE, 

teasing  some  one,  she  kept  up  a  constant  murmur 
of  her  instinctive  enjoyment  of  this  by-play.  It 
was  a  blessing  to  the  old  soul  to  see  this  young 
life  sporting  about  her.  Tono,  at  such  times, 
would  lead  his  horses  round  that  way,  which 
pleased  the  little  girls,  and  sometimes  he  made 
them  baskets  out  of  the  wild  plum-tree  stones 
that  grew  in  the  portreros.  Mrs.  Warwick's  heart 
was  quite  softened  toward  Camilla  by  this  proof 
of  her  humanity,  and  she  took  care  that  the 
children  should  never  annoy  her.  This  relation 
also  ameliorated  the  penalties  Mrs.  Warwick  would 
otherwise  have  suffered  for  her  somewhat  anom 
alous  position  in  the  family. 

Mrs.  Warwick's  kindness  of  heart  had  won  upon 
"the  people,"  who  confided  to  her  many  of  their 
sorrows,  and,  in  the  earlier  days  of  her  residence, 
she  often  communicated  them  to  Isabella,  who,  in 
her  turn,  endeavored  to  ameliorate  them ;  but  this 
sometimes  conflicted  with  discipline,  and  the  Mar 
quis  had  found  fault  with  Mrs.  Warwick  for 
troubling  his  wife  by  making  her  a  participant  of 
these  sorrows  of  the  lowly.  Mrs.  Warwick  had 
long  since  ceased  to  do  it,  but,  in  her  own  way, 
expressed  her  sympathy,  and  was  beloved  and 
(trusted  by  the  slaves,  whom  she  never  betrayed 
unless  she  felt  it  necessary  for  the  family  safety. 
When  she  first  drove  out  with  the  children,  the 
carelessness  of  the  calesero  frightened  her  to  such 
a  degree  that  she  declined  to  go  without  the 


THE   CHICKEN-HOUSE.  !8i 

Marquis  or  the  Marchioness  were  of  the  party  ; 
and  when  she  gave  her  reasons,  it  was  made  a 
special  cause  for  severe  punishment  if  any  accident 
should  ever  happen  during  such  drives.  One  or 
two  had  been  barely  averted,  and  it  was  on 
these  occasions  that  Mrs.  Warwick's  confidence 
had  been  destroyed  ;  for  the  calesero  averred  be 
fore  her  face  that  everything  went  right,  when,  in 
fact,  the  harnessing  was  so  careless  that  he  could 
with  difficulty  manage  the  horses.  Being  man 
aged  solely  by  fear,  no  trust  could  be  reposed  in 
them.  Sad  accidents  often  occurred  from  this 
cause,  and  it  seemed  but  a  just  retribution  to  the 
masters,  when  they  had  destroyed,  by  their 
severity,  the  very  germs  of  truth  and  fidelity. 

Camilla  had  seized  the  opportunity  that  morn 
ing,  as  she  passed  Carlo's  cottage,  to  gratify  her 
feeling  of  sympathy,  or  curiosity,  or  both,  and, 
during  her  brief  visit,  had  been  asked  if  the  lady 
got  safely  back  to  the  house.  She  could  not  keep 
Helen's  secret,  but  undoubtedly  discovered,  by 
the  quick  sympathy  of  her  race,  that  Helen  had 
not  made  known  her  visit.  Helen  felt  very  sure, 
at  the  time,  that  she  understood  enough  English 
to  comprehend  what  passed  between  herself  and 
Isabella,  and  for  a  long  time  Camilla  lost  no 
opportunity  of  reminding  her  of  it,  by  cautioning 
her  against  the  dogs,  but  never  otherwise  revealed 
the  fact  to  any  one  in  the  house.  Helen  often 
found  that  many  an  earache  and  toothache  were 


I  $2  THE   CHICKEN-HOUSE. 

invented  expressly  to  elicit  kind  inquiries  for  her, 
and  often  a  song  would  suddenly  change  to  a 
moan  when  she  saw  her  approach.  Helen's 
benevolence  always  gratified  her  by  a  sympathetic 
word.  It  was  a  mode  of  giving  her  pleasure,  that 
could  hardly  be  withheld  from  one  to  whom  the 
voice  of  kindness  was  not  a  familiar  sound  ;  for 
Camilla's  characteristics  were  not  so  amiable  that 
one  could  form  any  attachment  to  her.  She  loved 
her  master  and  mistress  very  much,  but  half  her 
time  was  spent  in  making  their  lives  uncomfort 
able,  by  the  exercise  of  just  so  much  power  as  her 
privileged  age  and  her  useful  office  gave  her.  Isa 
bella  understood  her  so  well  that  she  always  made 
arrangements  in  reference  to  the  possibility  of  her 
being  off  duty  at  the  moment  when  she  might  be 
most  needed.  A  deadly  enmity  had  always  existed 
in  Camilla's  mind  against  Juanita,  not  commenc 
ing  with  the  latter,  but  dating  far  back,  when 
Juanita's  mother,  who  was  a  Moorish  woman  of 
great  beauty,  had  excited  her  jealousy,  not  only 
by  superior  manners,  but  in  her  influence  in  cer 
tain  quarters  where  Camilla  wished  to  reign  para 
mount.  She  never  dared  to  express  her  enmity 
openly  to  the  present  Juanita,  but  the  Marchioness 
had  recognized  and  never  lost  sight  of  it,  and, 
since  the  death  of  the  mother,  had  kept  Juanita 
near  her  own  person,  and  more  closely  under  her 
protection  than  she  would  otherwise  have  done. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

THE  AMERICANS. 

"VOLANTES  !  quitrins  !  my  lady  !  company  com 
ing  !  the  Americans  !  "  screamed  Camilla,  rushing 
up  the  steps. 

It  was,  indeed,  the  Americans.  The  Marquis 
had  had  horses  upon  the  road  for  a  week,  awaiting 
their  arrival,  and  Camilla  had  seen  the  familiar 
face  of  Luis,  the  calesero  in  charge. 

The  Marquesa  had  invited  no  guests  for  the  holi 
days  ;  for  she  was  in  daily  expectation  of  this  party 
of  friends  from  Philadelphia,  who  had  sent  her 
word  that  they  were  coming  to  bring  home  an 
orphan  niece  of  her  husband,  who  had  been  a  resi 
dent  of  that  city  since  her  extreme  childhood. 
Madame  Le  Blanc,  a  well  known  and  distinguished 
teacher,  had  long  since  passed  away,  but  an  ac 
complished  assistant  had  taken  her  place,  and  re 
ceived  many  pupils  from  Cuba.  The  Marquis  of 
Rodriguez  had  placed  the  little  orphan  girl  in  this 
establishment  on  the  death  of  her  parents.  She 
had  always  been  very  happy  there,  but  her  health 
was  delicate,  and  her  kind  instructress  preferred  to 
bring  her  to  her  native  climate  and  to  pass  a  few 
weeks  there  herself.  They  proposed  to  come  be- 

183 


THE  AMERICANS. 

fore  the  holidays.  The  visitors  to  La  Consolacion 
were  therefore  only  day  guests,  which  gave  the 
family  a  few  hours  of  freedom  at  early  morning 
and  late  in  the  evening,  and  afforded  Helen  and 
Isabella  some  leisure  to  remember  together  the 
days  of  their  early  friendship.  Unforeseen  cir 
cumstances  had  interfered  with  the  enjoyment  of 
this  leisure  thus  far. 

Madame  Cazneau,  the  accomplished  teacher  in 
whose  school  the  little  girl  had  been  placed,  had 
visited  Cuba  before,  but  had  never  been  to  La 
Consolacion  until  now. 

Carolina  Rodriguez  was  now  eighteen,  and  a 
brilliant  beauty.  Her  ecstasy  at  all  she  saw  gave 
additional  zest  to  the  usual  animation  of  her  man 
ner.  Her  complexion,  though  not  so  fair  as  the 
average  American  one,  was  still  dazzling  in  com 
parison  with  the  brunette  beauties  of  the  tropical 
island,  and  Ludovico,  who  had  met  and  accom 
panied  them  to  the  door,  was  transfixed  with  his 
delight  at  her  aspect. 

Ludovico  had  few  young  acquaintances.  He 
had  rarely  visited  the  city,  and  Spanish  customs 
forbade  all  free  intercourse  of  young  people  in 
polite  circles.  When  Carolina  frankly  extended 
her  hand  to  him,  in  American  fashion,  he  took  it 
mechanically,  but  hardly  knew  what  to  do  with  it, 
whether  to  shake  it,  to  kiss  it,  or  to  kneel  upon  it. 
Carolina  burst  into  a  merry  laugh  at  his  confusion. 
She  knew  nothing  of  Spanish  etiquette,  and  did 


THE  AMERICANS.  185 

not  care  much  for  any.  An  American  boarding- 
school  girl  from  one  of  our  cities  is  never  espec 
ially  diffident,  and  Carolina  was  in  all  respects 
Americanized,  for  she  had  forgotten  the  land  of 
her  birth  entirely.  She  knew  the  fact  of  being 
allied  to  high-born  Spaniards,  but  it  had  never 
been  a  reality  to  her  till  now,  when  she  saw  her 
self  surrounded  by  affectionate  friends,  and  the 
picture  was  set  in  the  rare  and  gorgeous  beauty  of 
tropical  life.  Her  enthusiasm  had  been  rising 
as  she  approached  her  destination,  till  she  was 
quite  beside  herself.  She  threw  her  arms  round 
Isabel's  neck  and  devoured  her  with  kisses, 
greeted  Helen  with  scarcely  less  warmth, 
snatched  up  the  lovely  children,  and  gazed  at 
them  with  undisguised  admiration. 

"Where  is  uncle  —  dear  uncle?"  she  said, 
eagerly  looking  round. 

"  He  will  soon  be  here,"  said  the  Marchioness, 
"  and  how  have  you  borne  your  drive,  Madame 
Cazneau,"  addressing  the  benevolent-looking  lady, 
who  had  stood  smiling  at  her  pupil's  wild  enjoy 
ment. 

"Oh,  very  well,  madame  —  this  dear  girl  has 
kept  me  in  fine  spirits  all  the  way.  I  could 
hardly  hold  her  in  the  carriage.  Does  she  not 
look  finely  ?  The  voyage  has  clone  her  good,  and 
I  think  we  shall  hear  nothing  more  of  delicate 
health." 

"  But  where  are  the  friends  that  were  to  accom 
pany  you  ?" 


1 86  THE   AMERICANS. 

"  We  came  alone,  after  all,  unless  we  include 
Fanchon,  whom  I  took  the  liberty  to  place  in 
one  of  your  carriages,  as  she  never  rode,  and  was 
afraid  to  mount  either  horse  or  mule.  Fanchon 
is  an  old  family  servant  of  my  mother's,  who  left 
service  many  years  since,  and  has  supported  her 
self  and  a  large  family  by  making  wedding  cake  ; 
but  when  she  heard  I  was  coming  to  Cuba  and 
needed  an  attendant,  she  insisted  upon  accom 
panying  me.  I  was  very  ill  when  I  came  to  Cuba 
before,  and  Fanchon  professed  to  be  a  good  sailor 
and  was  sure  her  care  could  spare  me  much  suffer. 
ing.  I  therefore  took  the  liberty  to  bring  her,  — 
but  where  is  she  ?  I  suppose  she  alighted  from 
the  carriage  behind  us." 

"  Mama,"  said  Manuel,  "  she  is  sitting  on  the 
steps  of  the  other  piazza,  and  Camilla  is  talking 
with  her." 

"Camilla  is  talking  French,  mama,"  said  Luise. 

"Ah,  then,  Fanchon  will  be  quite  happy, 
for  she  cannot  talk  Spanish,"  said  Madame  Caz- 
neau. 

"Camilla's  French  is  not  very  fresh,"  said  the 
Marchioness,  laughing ;  "  we  once  had  a  French 
overseer,  and  she  always  picks  up  something.  But 
Camilla  is  so  secretive  that  we  cannot  enumerate 
all  her  accomplishments.  I  am  glad,  for  Fanchon's 
sake,  that  she  can  talk  French." 

"  Your  nice  servants  looked  so  respectable,  and 
were  so  attentive,  that  we  needed  no  other  escort. 


THE  AMERICANS. 


187 


I  was  assured  it  was  safe  to  travel  in  your  island 
now  —  so  different  from  my  last  visit  here  !  " 

The  Marquis  now  arrived,  and  welcomed  his 
niece  with  much  warmth,  and  then  the  ladies 
retired  for  bathing  and  rest. 

"  Miss  Wentworth  !  how  beautiful  she  is  !  don't 
you  think  so?"  said  Ludovico,  waking  from  his 
trance. 

"Yes,  she  is  lovely,"  said  Helen. 

"  She  is  divine  !  "  he  exclaimed,  passionately. 

"  Oh,  what  a  pretty  cousin  !  "  said  little  Pepita. 
"Has  not  she  red  cheeks?  " 

"  She  kissed  me  !  "  said  Luisa. 

"  And  me  too,"  echoed  Manuel.  "  Oh,  won't 
she  play  with  us?  I'll  show  her  my  Noah's  ark, 
that  you  brought  me." 

"  And  I'll  show  her  my  paroquets.  They'll  say 
'  Como  Sta '  ;  will  she  know  what  that  means  ? 
Can  she  talk  as  we  do,  Aunt  Helen?"  inquired 
Pepita,  anxiously. 

"  Oh  yes  !  she  is  a  little  Spanish  girl,  that  lived 
here  when  she  was  very  small,  and  she  can  talk 
both  ways." 

"  I  like  French  best,"  said  Luisa. 

"But  you  cannot  talk  it,"  said  Manuel,  "and  I 
think  Spanish  is  the  best  of  all.  Get  up  !  get 
up ! "  he  vociferated,  in  that  sonorous  idiom. 
"  Out  of  the  way  !  Pepita,  here  comes  Caravalle." 
And  Manuel  pranced  across  the  salon  upon  his 
long  Guinea-grass,  which  waved  its  graceful  head 
like  the  mane  of  a  steed. 


!88  THE  AMERICANS. 

"  Oh  where's  Alezan  ?  "  cried  Pepita.  "  Luisa, 
naughty  girl !  you  are  standing  on  my  Alezan  — 
oh  !  you'll  break  it." 

"No,  that's  my  horse!"  said  Luisa.  "  'Tis  not 
Alezan  ;  it's  Rosillo  grande  !" 

And  the  two  little  girls  pulled  at  the  long 
grass,  which  broke  in  two,  at  which  Pepita  wept 
loudly. 

"  Ay  de  mi !  little  ones,"  said  Ludovico,  "  don't 
quarrel  about  the  grasses.  I'll  get  you  five 
hundred  if  you  will  not  cry,  Pepita !  Come,  ride 
on  my  shoulder,"  and  he  snatched  up  the  de 
lighted  child,  and  ran  down  the  gallery  with  her. 
Luisa  picked  up  the  broken  horse,  but  the  plume 
was  quite  broken  off,  and  she  ran  to  tell  Manuel, 
who  always  sympathized  in  her  woes. 

As  Helen  turned  to  throw  herself  into  a  boutacle, 
she  saw  Juanita  leaning  against  the  door,  with  a 
troubled  expression  of  face.  She  immediately 
disappeared,  but  a  chill  struck  to  the  heart  of 
Helen,  as  she  remembered  the  look  of  woe. 

"I  feared  so!"  she  ejaculated,  mentally.  "How 
could  it  be  otherwise !  What  infatuated  blindness  ! 
Isabel,  Isabel  !  "  and  she  covered  her  eyes  with 
her  fingers,  as  she  leaned  back  in  the  chair,  as  if 
that  could  shut  out  consequences. 

That  short  meeting  of  the  cousins  was  an  epoch 
in  two  lives,  if  not  in  more. 

To  Ludovico  it  opened  a  new  world  of  at  least 
present  happiness. 


THE  AMERICANS. 


189 


To  Juanita  it  opened  an  abyss  of  woe  into 
which  her  life  was  fated  to  descend  —  how  deep  ? 

Neither  had  had  a  conscious  life  till  now  in  one 
sense.  Juanita's  existence  was  wrapped  up  in 
that  of  Ludovico,  but  she  did  not  know  it  till  she 
saw  his  meeting  with  Carolina,  and  heard  his 
rapturous  expressions  to  Helen. 

Ludovico  could  hardly  have  told  whether  he  was 
a  bird,  a  flower,  a  favorite  book,  or  anything  sepa 
rated  from  the  nature  which  he  instinctively  loved 
and  investigated.  Juanita  was  a  part  of  him,  as 
his  mother  was,  associated  with  all  his  childish 
plays  and  youthful  enjoyments,  and  even  intel 
lectual  pleasures.  He  knew  she  was  a  slave,  if 
he  had  been  asked,  but  he  had  never  thought  any 
thing  about  it.  She  was  nothing  to  him  now  — 
still  less  was  she  an  obstruction  in  his  way. 
Henceforth  Carolina  was  all  in  all.  "  What  a 
proud-looking  creature  that  pretty  girl  is,"  said 
Carolina,  the  next  day,  to  Ludovico  ;  "  who  is 
she  ? " 

"  She  is  only  my  mother's  maid,"  said  Ludovico. 

He  had  not  looked  at  her  —  he  did  not  know 
she  was  proud — he  had  not  remembered  her 
existence,  even. 

Juanita  heard  both  question  and  answer.  They 
stung  her  as  keenly  as  if  she  had  known  herself 
to  be  Carolina's  equal.  She  was,  in  fact,  much 
her  superior,  for  Carolina  was  frivolous  and  heart 
less.  She  had  never  really  loved  any  one  but 


190 


THE  AMERICANS. 


herself.  Juanita  worshipped  with  all  the  depth 
of  her  tropical  nature.  To  Ludovico  she  had 
been  a  part  of  nature,  a  thing  of  course,  one  who 
never  thwarted  him  but  obeyed  his  lightest  wish. 
He  had  never  tyrannized  over  her,  but  he  had 
never  questioned  her  allegiance.  Every  occupa 
tion  had  been  in  common.  They  had  ridden  the 
same  pony  when  they  were  children  ;  when  they 
had  driven  in  the  volante,  Juanita  had  been  one  of 
the  party,  to  carry  the  shawl  for  his  mother  and 
to  hold  the  baby.  She  had  brought  him  the 
flowers  from  the  garden  when  he  painted;  he  had 
brought  her  the  flowers  from  the  trees  in  the 
woods  when  she  painted.  Having  no  other  daily 
companions  of  his  own  age,  she,  ever  present,  had 
been  his  companion.  It  is  true  he  had  eaten  at 
the  table  in  the  hall ;  Juanita  had  waited  upon 
him,  and  had  eaten  at  the  table  in  the  nursery. 
He  had  been  guarded  by  an  instinctive  knowledge 
of  his  position  and  hers.  She  had  worshipped  the 
sun  that  had  always  shone  upon  her,  never  think 
ing  to  ask  if  she  might  worship.  She  knew  all 
his  thoughts,  which  he  had  never  thought  of  con 
cealing  from  her,  but  he  did  not  know  hers.  She 
had  never  told  him  that  she  was  legally  entitled  to 
her  freedom,  that  she  was  an  emancipada ;  and 
what  difference  would  it  make  if  she  had,  since 
the  privilege  was  practically  denied  her  ?  The 
ban  of  caste  would  also  still  have  been  upon  her. 
Within  the  last  few  days  it  seemed  as  if  the 


THE  AMERICANS. 


IQI 


form  of  her  brother  Juan  de  la  Luz  was  ever  pres 
ent  to  her.  The  shock  of  old  Carlo's  punishment 
had  revived  the  bitter  recollection  of  his  loss,  a 
loss  due  not  to  any  fault  of  his,  but  to  his  beauty 
and  the  independent  spirit  which  the  history  of 
his  family  had  cherished  in  him.  Only  the  pres 
ence  of  Ludovico  had  made  it  good  to  her;  but 
Ludovico  was,  in  truth,  more  her  equal  than  the 
strong  impatient  boy  who  was  her  terror  as  well 
as  her  pride,  —  her  terror  lest  he  should  bring 
down  wrath  upon  himself,  her  pride  in  his 
beauty,  and  grace,  and  love  for  her. 

In  slavery,  the  heart  and  affections  of  the  slave  are 
not  taken  into  account.  "  They  do  not  feel  as  we 
do,"  disposes  of  all  such  considerations  with  the 
superficial  and  unfeeling,  and  better  people  try  to 
think  so.  It  is  so  easy  to  bear  other  people's 
burdens  where  there  is  no  love.  Juanita  had  not 
been  the  subject  of  any  special  neglect  heretofore. 
In  heaven's  code  of  morals  she  had  not  been 
treated  too  kindly,  but  hers  had  been  an  excep 
tional  case,  wholly  out  of  relation  with  what  sur 
rounded  her.  If  she  was  neglected  now,  there 
was  no  tribunal  to  which  those  were  responsible 
who  might  leave  out  of  the  account  her  possible 
human  affections.  Simply  to  ignore  them  was 
enough  to  make  her  miserable,  and  that  misery 
she  must  bury  in  the  depths  of  her  own  heart. 

The  next  day  was  to  be  Sunday,  when  the 
negroes  have  a  dance  of  their  own  by  time-hon- 


192 


THE  AMERICANS. 


ored  custom,  at  which  they  show  forth  all  their 
sympathies,  or  want  of  sympathies,  with  each 
other.  The  distinction  of  caste  is  as  marked  in 
their  low  life  as  in  that  of  high  life.  On  New 
Year's  day,  a  long  table  is  spread  in  the  dancing- 
room,  and  the  aristocracy  of  the  household  depart 
ment  sits  at  the  first  table,  and  is  waited  upon  by 
the  "  Canailla,"  as  Camilla  calls  the  field  hands 
and  other  subordinates.  Poultry  and  pigs  are  the 
sole  property  of  slaves,  except  what  articles  of 
dress  they  are  tempted  to  buy  with  their  hoarded 
pennies  from  the  pedlers,  who  are  encouraged  to 
come  upon  the  plantations  to  prevent  this  hoarding 
of  money.  On  the  days  of  baptism,  when  they  are 
allowed  to  go  to  the  village  church,  they  dress 
elaborately.  This  privilege,  however,  is  confined 
to  those  employed  about  the  house.  The  field 
hands  are  absolutely  cattle,  and  their  human  rela 
tions  are  utterly  ignored,  the  parental  one  being 
only  recognized  in  their  master's  interest,  for  they 
no  longer  own  even  the  baby  when  they  have  done 
nursing  it.  Their  ordinary  food  is  bacallao  (salt- 
fish),  jerked  beef,  cooked  corn,  and  plantains. 

These  they  cook,  each  for  himself,  and  eat  from 
gourds,  sitting  on  their  haunches,  in  the  most  con 
venient  places  ;  but  on  New  Year's  day  they  eat 
together,  though  in  rude  fashion.  On  the  Mar 
quis  of  Rodriguez'  plantation  they  were  allowed  to 
have  oranges  and  anything  else  they  could  find  on 
the  ground.  After  the  feast,  they  fell  into  the 


THE  AMERICANS. 


193 


wild  dance  which  is  peculiar  to  them,  and  which 
consists  for  the  most  part  in  violent  contortions, 
accompanied  with  screaming  and  clapping  of 
hands.  Helen  had  already  heard  it  on  the  Sun 
day  after  her  arrival,  but  the  impression  it  made 
was  so  painful,  partly  from  her  recollection  of  the 
wedding  dance  in  Havana,  and  partly  from  the 
nature  of  the  performance  itself,  that  she  had  felt 
no  curiosity  to  witness  it.  The  beating  of  the  hol 
low  log  that  forms  the  rude  drum  of  the  negroes  is 
so  deep  and  penetrating  that  it  seems  to  strike  on 
the  very  heart  of  the  hearer,  rather  than  on  the 
tympanum  of  the  ear.  From  early  in  the  morning 
till  six  o'clock  in  the  evening  one  unremitting 
sound  was  kept  up,  and  the  various  negroes  fell 
into  the  dance  at  pleasure.  When  many  were  en 
gaged  together,  the  wild  scream  sometimes  rose 
to  a  fearful  pitch.  It  was  not  merry,  but  it  was 
an  unforbidden  utterance,  and  to  Helen's  ear  it 
was  the  sound  of  otherwise  pent-up  emotions, 
which  made  the  best  of  this  opportunity  for  ex 
pression.  The  drum  had  sounded  all  this  day, 
and  those  not  occupied  in  preparing  the  feast 
had  danced  outside  of  the  dancing-house  as  they 
listed ;  but  in  the  afternoon  they  formed  in  proces 
sion,  and  ranged  themselves  in  a  semi-circle  on  the 
lawn  before  the  house.  The  dance  began  by  the 
contortions  of  one  man,  who,  after  exciting  him 
self  to  a  sort  of  frenzy  by  his  motions,  dropped  a 
hat  upon  the  head  of  a  woman.  This  was  a  signal 


ICj4  THE   AMERICANS. 

for  other  men  to  throw  themselves  forward  in  the 
same  way  and  challenge  each  another  partner. 
Not  more  scrupulously  do  the  ladies  of  a  fairer  hue 
wait  for  an  invitation  to  dance  than  did  these 
sable  maidens  and  matrons.  At  last  all  were 
fairly  engaged,  and,  as  they  whirled  around  each 
other,  vying  which  should  make  the  most  display 
of  agility  and  variety  of  motion  and  contortion, 
they  accompanied  themselves  by  throwing  out 
their  arms  in  rhythm  with  the  drum,  and  piercing 
the  air  with  their  screams.  One  or  two  women, 
more  tasteful  than  the  rest,  wound  and  unwound 
their  shawls  as  they  danced,  but  no  one  appeared 
to  suspect  this  had  any  significance  but  Helen. 
When  the  dancers  were  exhausted,  and  some 
of  them  kept  up  their  wild  gestures  till  they  fell 
to  the  ground,  they  gradually  subsided  into  quiet 
ness,  and  the  Marquis  and  Ludovico  ended  the 
sport  by  throwing  out  to  them  from  the  gallery 
handfuls  of  small  coin.  Manuel  noted  the  absence 
of  old  Carlo,  whose  Congo  nature  made  him  a 
dancer  even  in  his  old  age  ;  and  of  Jacobo,  who  was 
one  of  the  most  celebrated  performers.  Their 
wives,  too,  were  absent,  and  Camilla  turned  up 
her  nose  at  such  frivolity  and  such  want  of  dignity 
as  to  dance  with  the  "Canailla."  Juanita  was 
nowhere  to  be  seen.  She  always  hid  herself  on 
these  occasions. 

The  guests  looked  on  with  wondering,  and  even 
with  terror.     The  dance  left  no  impression,  of  joy, 


THE  AMERICANS. 


195 


but  only  of  mad  excitement,  and  the  party  in  the 
salon  sat  down  in  silence  at  its  close.  Even  Caro 
lina's  gayety  had  a  check  for  the  moment,  and 
when  the  dinner  hour  came,  which  was  a  little 
later  than  usual,  the  conversation  was  low  and 
scanty. 

At  six  all  was  hushed  on  the  plantation,  and  the 
whole  gang,  except  the  household  servants,  safely 
locked  into  their  cabins  before  dark.  They  were 
locked  in  every  night  after  their  work  was  over, 
and  answered  to  their  names  from  each  cabin. 
On  this  occasion,  more  care  than'  usual  was  taken 
to  house  them  all,  for  the  day  had  been  one  of  un 
usual  excitement. 

"Two  worlds  existing  side  by  side!"  was 
Helen's  mental  ejaculation,  as  she  threw  herself 
upon  the  bed.  "  So  intimately  associated,  and 
yet  so  apparently  isolated.  Does  it  never  occur 
to  these  slave-owners  that  all  are  the  children 
of  one  Father  ?  —  that  similar  affections  and  pas 
sions  exist  in  each  ?  " 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

FANCHON. 

FANCHON  had  been  assigned  to  an  empty  cabin, 
with  the  usual  accommodations,  that  is,  a  board 
and  a  blanket  But  she  was  not  locked  up  at 
nightfall  with  the  other  slaves,  and  had  lingered 
on  the  gallery  with  those  actively  employed  about 
the  household,  till  some  one  should  be  at  leisure 
to  show  her  the  place.  When  she  was  at  length 
introduced  to  her  night  quarters,  which  were  very 
near  the  house,  she  indignantly  refused  to  occupy 
them.  Pope  Urban  in  vain  endeavored  to  quiet 
her,  and  the  family  in  the  salon  were  startled  by 
loud  and  quick  voices  at  the  foot  of  the  steps. 

"  Where  is  Camilla,"  demanded  Fanchon. 

On  hearing  herself  called  thus,  Camilla  opened 
her  door,  which  was  below  the  piazza,  under  her 
own  pantry.  Her  room  was  little  else  than  a 
bunk,  on  the  floor  of  which  lay  the  board  that 
shielded  her  from  the  ground. 

"  Let  me  see  where  you  sleep,"  demanded  Fan 
chon,  thrusting  her  head  into  Camilla's  dormitory. 

"  So  this  is  the  way  human  beings  are  treated 
in  Cuba.  I  have  lived  too  long  in  the  world, 
among  Christian  people,  to  put  up  with  a  board 
196 


FANCHON. 


197 


and  a  blanket ;  but  I  could  bear  it  better  than  this 
poor  old  soul." 

And  Fanchon  ran  up  the  steps  to  find  her  lady. 
The  Marchioness  and  Madame  Cazneau  arrived  at 
the  spot  as  she  gained  the  gallery. 

"  Madame  Cazneau,  is  this  the  way  I  am  to  be 
treated  ?  thrust  into  a  hole  with  a  mud  floor,  and 
made  to  sleep  on  a  board  ?  Ave,  sanctissima  !  " 
for  Fanchon  was  a  good  Catholic.  "  I  knew  there 
were  slaves  here,  and  my  own  mother  was  a  slave, 
but  she  had  a  bed  to  sleep  on,  and  here  these  poor 
souls  have  not  even  that  comfort,  Ave  Maria  !  and 
are  locked  up  every  night  like  so  many  sheep. 
Madame  Cazneau,  can  you  have  a  bed  provided 
for  me  ?  My  old  bones  can't  rest  on  a  hard 
board  any  more  than  those  of  you  ladies  can  —  " 

"  Stop,  Fanchon,"  implored  Madame  Cazneau, 
laying  her  hand  on  the  woman's  arm,  which  was 
raised  in  violent  gesticulation  as  she  spoke.  "  Be 
calm,  you  will  make  trouble  —  you  do  not  know 
what  you  are  doing  —  come  to  my  room  —  "  and 
she  drew  her  away,  followed  by  the  Marchioness  — 
who  joined  her  entreaties  with  those  of  Madame 
Cazneau  that  she  should  be  quiet  and  not  disturb 
the  plantation  with  complaints. 

But  Fanchon  was  not  to  be  silenced. 

"  I  have  been  talking  with  that  old  woman, 
Madame  Cazneau,  and  I  have  been  boiling  all  the 
evening  —  for  I  have  been  asking  her  questions, 
and  I  see  what  sort  of  a  place  this  is.  In  our 


198 


FAXCHOK. 


country  it's  bad  enough.  I  have  seen  a  good 
many  runaway  slaves,  but  I  never  saw  one  yet 
who  had  nothing  but  a  board  to  sleep  on.  I 
never'll  bend  my  back  to  lie  down  on  a  board  if  I 
never  go  to  sleep  again.  I've  slept  on  the  floor  in 
my  day,  and  more  than  once  too,  and  I  can  do  it 
again  if  you  are  sick,  or  anybody  else  is  sick, 
Madame  Cazneau,  but  I  won't  sleep  on  a  board 
for  anybody's  telling  me  to,  nor  on  a  mud 
floor—" 

"  Perhaps  the  lady  will  let  a  cot  be  spread  for 
you  here,  Fanchon,  for  to-night." 

"  Certainly,  if  you  wish  it,"  said  the  Marchion 
ess,  and  she  left  Madame  Cazneau  to  calm  the 
excited  Fanchon,  who,  as  soon  as  she  left  the 
room,  burst  into  tears  of  rage  and  grief. 

"  I  am  sorry  I  brought  you  here,  Fanchon,  —  I 
might  have  known  you  would  not  be  contented." 

"  Contented  !  I  hope  not  !  If  you  had  seen  that 
wicked  old  overseer  knock  these  poor  creatures 
round  when  they  came  home  from  their  work,  you 
would  not  wonder  that  I  am  not  contented. 
Camilla  told  me  more  horrible  things  in  half  an 
hour  than  I  ever  heard  before  in  my  life  all  put 
together.  There  are  two  people  in  the  hospital 
that  have  been  whipped  almost  to  death  because 
they  would  not  be  bitten  by  blood-hounds  without 
trying  to  defend  themselves.  I'll  go  into  every 
hut  on  the  place  and  see  for  myself." 

"  I  am  afraid   you   will   not  be   allowed   to  stay 


FANCHON. 


199 


here  if  you  do  that,  Fanchon.  You  will  see  and 
know  enough  without  going  to  look  for  it,  and  I 
must  beg  you  to  say  nothing,  whatever  you  may 
see  or  know,  for  we  are  guests  here,  and  must 
make  no  trouble.  Here  comes  Camilla  with  the 
cot.  Try  to  go  to  sleep,  and  to-morrow  I  will  see 
what  can  be  done  to  make  you  comfortable  ;  you 
know  how  much  I  esteem  you,  Fanchon,  and  how 
much  I  am  obliged  to  you  for  leaving  your  nice 
home  to  come  with  me.  But,  for  my  sake,  be  care 
ful  what  you  say  and  what  you  do." 

And,  having  seen  poor  Fanchon  safe  in  bed, 
Madame  Cazneau  returned  to  the  salon  to  make 
what  apologies  she  could.  But  Fanchon  was  not 
to  be  appeased.  She  sprang  out  of  her  cot  in  the 
morning  when  the  plantation  bell  rung,  and  saw 
the  half-naked  people  shivering  in  the  cold  dews 
of  the  morning  as  they  filed  before  the  hated  over 
seer,  each  answering  to  his  name  as  he  passed. 
She  followed  Don  Ermite  to  the  chicken-house, 
when  he  made  his  morning  rounds  and  finally  to 
the  field. 

Fanchon  was  a  character.  In  her  own  sunny 
little  home  in  Philadelphia,  she  was  surrounded 
by  orphan  children  whom  she  had  taken  from 
the  snares  and  destructions  of  city  streets  to 
mother  and  to  educate.  She  was  not  much  culti 
vated  herself,  but  she  knew  the  advantages  of 
even  so  much  learning  as  the  knowledge  of  read 
ing  and  writing.  She  made  wedding  cake  for  her 


200  FANCHON. 

maintenance,  and  found  it  a  lucrative  profession. 
By  frugality  and  industry  she  earned  money 
enough  to  bring  up  several  children,  whom  she 
sent  to  school,  and,  when  they  were  old  enough  to 
assist  her,  she  took  more  employment,  turned  her 
front  room  into  a  small  shop,  and  became  very 
well-to-do  in  the  world  ;  as  her  means  increased, 
her  little  asylum  grew.  Black  children  and  white 
children  were  equally  objects  of  her  care.  They 
grew  up  side  by  side  in  her  loving  heart,  and  Fan- 
chon  showed  wonderful  sagacity  in  her  disposition 
of  them.  She  placed  some  in  good  families  as 
domestics  ;  others  she  put  to  trades.  Two  lovely 
little  white  girls  of  superior  ability  she  destined 
for  teachers,  and,  knowing  the  disabilities  they 
would  be  under  if  they  went  to  school  from  her 
humble  roof,  she  sent  them  to  a  good  boarding- 
school  in  New  York,  and  furnished  them  with 
every  advantage  of  dress  and  books  enjoyed  by 
the  children  of  the  great.  Their  origin  she  care 
fully  concealed,  and  she  had  already  had  the  satis 
faction  of  seeing  them  in  good  situations,  respected 
and  admired  for  character  and  accomplishments. 
Nor  did  she  ever  let  them  know  to  whose  bounty 
they  were  indebted  for  the  remittances  that  never 
failed. 

Fanchon  is  not  a  creature  of  the  brain.  She 
was  a  living  reality.  Her  attachment  to  the 
mother  of  Madame  Cazneau,  who  lived  in  St. 
Domingo  and  had  been  saved  by  the  fidelity  of 


FANCHOX.  201 

her  slave,  Fanchon's  mother,  extended  to  her 
children,  and  partook  of  that  enthusiasm  which 
is  so  well  known  to  characterize  that  abused 
people  when  they  meet  with  real  kindness. 
Madame  Cazneau  had  aided  her  in  all  her  labors 
for  the  orphans  she  had  adopted,  and  had  been  the 
medium  of  her  bounty  to  the  two  beautiful  girls 
above  mentioned.  When  that  lady  returned  to 
the  salon,  she  told  this  history  to  the  family,  and 
begged  the  Marquis  to  forgive  her  for  so  unwit 
tingly  bringing  a  troublesome  guest.  The  Mar 
quis  courteously  replied  that  if  the  woman  could 
keep  quiet,  there  would  be  no  difficulty,  but  the 
event  proved  that  Fanchon  was  an  independent 
power,  whom  conventionalities  could  not  rule. 

Only  a  few  of  the  negroes  who  attended  to  the 
cattle  and  horses  had  been  taken  out  to  work  the 
next  day,  which  was  New  Year's.  Fanchon  fol 
lowed  them  and  the  overseer  to  the  portrero,  and 
during  the  amusements  of  the  day  she  had  cir 
culated  freely  among  them,  but,  when  they  were 
shut  up  for  the  night,  her  indignation  again  burst 
bounds. 

The  Marquis  did  not  attend  the  evening  ball  in 
the  village,  and,  after  the  rest  of  the  family  had 
left  home,  he  sent  for  Fanchon,  and  told  her  to 
pack  her  box,  for  at  daylight  she  must  return  to 
the  city,  which  she  would  reach  in  time  to  sail  for 
New  York  in  the  next  packet.  He  would  listen 
to  no  remonstrance,  told  her  that  she  would  be 


2O2  FANCHON. 

safe  with  his  messenger,  who  was  to  go  the  next 
day,  and  bade  her  speak  to  no  one  upon  the  sub 
ject.  He  was  afraid  of  such  an  inflammable  torch 
in  the  present  condition  of  the  plantation,  and  had 
found  it  very  difficult  to  pacify  Don  Ermite. 

Fanchon  went  to  Madame  Cazneau's  room  and 
collected  her  things  together.  She  was  aware 
that  she  had  trespassed  upon  proprieties,  but 
proprieties  seemed  to  her  very  trivial  under  these 
circumstances.  When  Madame  Cazneau  returned 
from  the  ball,  she  informed  her  of  the  Marquis' 
directions,  and  Madame  Cazneau,  though  dis 
tressed  and  alarmed  for  Fanchon's  comfort  if 
not  safety,  could  do  nothing  but  comply. 

Early  in  the  morning  a  knock  at  her  door  roused 
her  at  dawn.  The  Marquis  stood  upon  the  steps 
when  she  went  out.  A  mule  saddled  with  a  pil 
lion,  or  basket,  held  by  a  negro,  awaited  her.  "  1 
cannot  ride  upon  that,"  she  exclaimed  ;  "  I  never 
rode  any  beast  in  my  life." 

"  You  will  soon  learn,"  said  the  Marquis. 

"Madame  Cazneau,  must  I  be  treated  in  this 
way?"  said  the  indignant  Fanchon  to  her  lady, 
who  had  followed  her  out.  "Where  am  I  to  go 
when  I  get  to  Havana  ? " 

"  I  am  very  sorry  for  you,"  said  Madame  Caz 
neau,  composing  herself  with  great  difficulty. 
"  My  dear  sir,"  she  said  to  the  Marquis,  "  I 
should  not.  have  done  this,  but  is  it  not  possible 
to  send  Fanchon  in  a  cart  ?  " 


FANCHON.  203 

"  It  is  not  possible,"  said  the  Marquis.  Luis  is 
a  careful  man.  He  will  soon  teach  her  to  ride 
the  mule.  Her  box  can  be  strapped  upon 
another,  and  she  will  go  safely,"  and  Luis  will 
put  her  on  board  the  vessel,  which  sails  to-mor 
row  for  New  York. 

Seeing  that  remonstrance  was  vain,  Madame 
Cazneau  said  no  more,  but  Fanchon's  anger  knew 
no  bounds.  Terror  nearly  deprived  her  of  her 
reason,  but  she  was  obliged  to  mount,  and  left 
the  plantation  screaming  with  affright  at  the 
motions  of  the  mule,  and  holding  on  his  mane 
with  both  hands.  How  many  falls  and  mishaps 
she  had,  no  one  knew,  but  Luis  brought  back 
word  that  he  had  seen  her  safely  on  board  a 
packet  for  New  York,  and  Madame  Cazneau  was 
obliged  to  bear  her  mortification  and  grief  with  a 
smiling  face.  She  had  consoled  herself,  as  far  as 
she  could,  by  furnishing  Fanchon  with  ample 
funds  to  purchase  all  sorts  of  comforts,  accommo 
dations,  and  immunities  on  her  passage  to  the 
States. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 
THE  NEW  YEAR'S  BALL. 

WHEN  Carolina  heard  of  village  balls  she  was 
all  delight  and  ready  to  go  on  the  evening  of  New 
Year's,  which  was  a  special  holiday  among  the 
great  as  well  as  among  the  lowly.  She  had  been 
terrified  and  somewhat  depressed  by  the  exciting 
dance  of  the  negroes;  but  her  spirits  were  restored 
by  the  prospect  of  the  ball.  She  was  there 
whirled  in  the  waltz  and  led  in  the  contra-dance 
by  many  strangers,  for  she  was  the  object  of 
attention  to  every  one  who  could  approach  her. 
Ludovico  had  first  led  her  out,  and  begged  her  to 
dance  with  him  all  the  evening. 

"  Oh,  but  it  will  be  such  fun  to  dance  with  the 
Spaniards!  I  cannot  do  any  such  thing ;  indeed, 
it  is  too  bad  for  you  to  ask  me." 

It  was  not  selfishness  that  had  induced  Ludo 
vico  to  make  the  request.  He  had  never  thought 
of  the  matter  before,  but  he  could  not  bear  the 
thought  that  any  of  the  voluptuaries  who  had 
access  to  the  ball-room  should  touch  the  fair 
vision  which  filled  the  whole  heaven  of  his  soul. 
Carolina  had  pained  her  aunt  all  day  by  the  ease 
with  which  she  had  accepted  the  flatterings  of  the 

204 


THE  NEW   YEAR'S  BALL. 


205 


guests  who,  among  their  other  amusements,  had 
visited  her  house  that  clay  ;  but  Carolina  showed 
no  fine  instinct  that  would  have  made  a  truly  deli 
cate-minded  girl  shrink  from  a  strange  hand 
Like  a  beautiful  moth  that  singes  its  wings  in  the 
candle,  she  allowed  herself  to  be  made  dizzy  first 
by  one  and  then  by  another  gay  cavalier,  whose 
approach  made  Ludovico  shudder.  He  stood  still 
while  she  danced,  and  was  rejoiced  when  the 
music  ceased  and  the  revellers  dispersed. 

"  Are  you  affronted  ? "  said  Carolina,  saucily, 
when  they  ran  up  the  steps.  "  Why  didn't  you 
dance  ? " 

Ludovico  stammered  out  some  reply.  He 
hardly  knew  that  he  had  not  danced. 

"  I  did  not  feel  like  it,"  was  all  he  could  say. 

"  I  always  feel  like  it,"  said  the  thoughtless 
girl,  "  and  such  splendid  music  !  so  different  from 
Philadelphia  bands  !  I  do  not  see  how  you  could 
resist  it." 

"  She  is  so  young  and  innocent,  mama  !  Such 
men  as  Mirante  and  Remon  ought  not  to  dance 
with  her.  Can't  you  tell  her  so  another  time  ? " 
he  whispered  to  his  mother  when  she  bade  him 
good-night  in  his  own  room,  where  she  always 
made  him  a  farewell  visit. 

"I  will  try,  my  son,"  said  Isabella,  "but  young 
girls  are  so  thoughtless.  She  does  not  know  any 
thing  about  our  society,  and  has  never  been  into 
company  much,  Madame  Cazneau  tells  me.  This 


2o6  TIIE   NEW   y EAR'S  BALL. 

is  really  her  debut  into  the  world,  and  we  must 
teach  her  how  careful  she  must  be  of  herself." 

Isabella  had  observed  that  Ludovico  did  not 
dance,  and  could  read  his  face  so  well  that  she 
divined  all  his  thoughts,  and  saw  that  he  was 
wholly  unconscious  of  the  remark  he  excited  by 
not  dancing.  But  she  was  more  gratified  than 
pained  by  this  evidence  of  his  delicacy  for  his 
cousin.  She  saw  that  his  imagination  was  kin 
dled,  and  only  hoped  that  the  unsullied  purity  of 
his  nature  would  not  clothe  with  ideal  beauty  any 
form  of  outward  loveliness  that  would  disappoint 
him  or  degrade  his  conception  of  womanly  mod 
esty.  Ludovico  had  not  the  experience  to  detect 
frivolity  beneath  that  fair  and  dazzling  exterior 
which  had  already  inspired  him  with  the  master 
sentiment  of  his  hitherto  slumbering  nature. 
Nothing  on  earth  is  purer  than  the  soul  of  an 
ingenuous  youth  when  first  waked  by  the  touch 
of  beauty  and  loveliness,  which  it  never  sepa 
rates  from  the  "  perfect  good  and  fair  "  till  rudely 
waked  from  its  first  dream.  The  Spanish  maidens 
whom  Ludovico  had  known  and  danced  with  were 
gentle  and  friendly,  and  beautiful  too ;  but  the 
sparkling  wit  and  sprightly  gayety  of  Carolina 
fascinated  and  spellbound  him. 

After  the  guests  had  retired,  Isabella  and 
Helen  sauntered  upon  the  gallery  a  little  while. 
New  cares  were  dawning  upon  Isabella.  Helen 
had  drawn  her  attention  to  the  new  shade  of  pain 


THE  NEW    YEAR'S  BALL. 


2O7 


on  the  features  of  Juanita  since  the  arrival  of  the 
American  ladies,  and  Isabella  had  for  the  first 
time  admitted  the  thought  that  she  had  rashly 
exposed  her  poor  heart  to  irremediable  suffering. 
But  she  was  still  sure  Ludovico  neither  imagined 
it  nor  shared  it,  and  was  not  sorry  for  this 
engrossing  interest  in  his  cousin  —  provided  that 
it  did  not  go  too  far.  But,  again,  she  felt  that  she 
might  not  be  able  to  control  it  if  it  did.  Even  if 
she  found  Carolina  unworthy  to  inspire  a  profound 
sentiment,  she  might  not  be  able  to  make  Ludo 
vico  see  it  with  her  eyes.  She  was  not  the  first 
mother  whose  heart  had  beat  quick  with  such 
fears  and  hopes.  Carolina  had  shown  vexation 
and  even  passion  when  she  heard  of  Fanchon's 
dismissal  —  not  against  her  uncle  and  the  cause 
of  the  ejectment,  but  against  Fanchon  herself, 
though  she  well  knew  her  noble  heart  and  disin 
terested  life.  Isabella  wished  Ludovico  had  seen 
it,  but  he  was  not  there. 

"  It  is  selfish  in  me  to  be  glad  that  you  are  here, 
dear  Helen  ;  but  it  is  difficult  for  me  not  to  be.  I 
have  never  had  any  one  to  speak  to  but  my  hus 
band  before,  and  now  I  cannot  speak  to  him, 
even  of  his  own  child,  or  of  other  things  that  pain 
me." 

"  I  am  glad  too,  dearest,  if  I  can  be  any  comfort 
to  you  —  and  am  so  glad  you  are  willing  to  speak 
to  me.  Do  not  be  too  easily  alarmed  about  Ludo 
vico.  It  will  do  him  no  harm  even  to  fall  in  love 


208  TIIE  NEW   YEAR'S  BALL. 

with  Carolina,  if  he  is  as  true  and  good  as  I  think 
he  is.  He  may  suffer,  but  he  will  not  he  vitally 
injured.  You  must  think  of  his  escape  from  the 
other  danger  —  there  he  might  have  inflicted  in 
jury  upon  another." 

"  Oh,  do  not  say  so,  Helen  !  An  insuperable 
barrier  separates  him  from  that  race,  however 
fascinating.  I  know  that  the  first  thought  would 
have  been  the  right  one  there.  I  have  been  wholly 
to  blame,  and  I  do  not  know  what  I  shall  do  with 
that  poor  girl.  She  must  know  her  place  amongst 
us,  but  her  heart  may  break,"  and  Isabella's  heart 
was  all  but  broken  for  her. 

She  had  trusted  too  confidently  to  Juanita's  prob 
able  estimate  of  her  "place,"  and  had  forgotten, 
as  those  of  her  caste  too  easily  forget,  that  "all 
nations  are  of  one  blood,"  and  that  all  hearts  hold 
similar  affections.  The  young  do  not  reason  about 
these  things  ;  they  only  feel. 

The  Marquis  joined  them,  and  Isabella  dried  her 
tears  under  cover  of  the  evening  shades,  but  -not 
without  realizing  that  a  shadow  had  come  between 
her  and  her  husband,  because  she  could  not  tell 
him  of  her  pain.  She  feared  for  Juanita,  and  felt 
for  the  first  time  that  he  was  the  slave-holder.  So 
apathetic  do  we  become  under  an  accepted  wrong. 
Helen,  and  circumstances  of  unusual  occurrence, 
had  broken  the  spell,  and  revived  all  her  youthful 
abhorrence  of  slavery.  She  could  never  "  make  the 
best  of  it "  again,  after  looking  upon  it  through 


THE   NEW   YEAR'S  BALL. 


209 


Helen's  eyes,  for  her  heart  was  a  loving  and  true 
heart,  and  had  been  warped  by  affection  itself, 
which  blinds  the  eyes  if  it  does  not  purify  them. 

The  next  morning  brought  Mirante  and  Remon 
and  many  other  cavaliers  to  call  upon  the  fair 
"  Americana,"  who  was  bewildered  with  this  un 
wonted  homage.  It  was  not  strange  that  she 
imagined  herself  all-fascinating.  She  did  not 
know  that  a  novelty,  especially  a  blonde  one,  was 
the  greatest  boon  idle  and  good-for-nothing  Span 
iards  could  see  upon  earth. 

She  could  soon  talk  Spanish  easily,  for  Madame 
Cazneau,  knowing  she  would  go  back  to  her  rich 
inheritance  in  Cuba,  had  had  her  carefully  in 
structed  in  that  beautiful  language. 

It  was  not  till  the  holidays  were  past  that 
Ludovico  had  her  at  all  to  himself;  and  no  one 
knew  all  that  he  had  suffered  in  those  gay,  festive 
days. 

Ludovico  had  had  no  opportunity  of  seeing 
Carolina's  character  tested  in  such  a  whirl  of 
pleasure,  of  enchanting  drives,  horseback  rides, 
holiday  visits  ;  and,  even  when  the  excitement  of 
city  company  was  over,  there  was  enough  visiting 
possible  for  the  winter  season,  when  people  can 
move  about,  to  keep  her  amused.  The  young 
girls  of  the  neighborhood,  after  the  holidays  were 
over,  and  time  began  to  hang  heavily,  solaced 
themselves  with  preparations  for  the  Kaster  festi 
val,  which  was  to  come  next,  and  this  solace  con- 


2io  THE  NEW  YEAR'S  BALL. 

sisted  in  working  new  embroideries  and  making 
new  dresses  for  the  occasion,  for  it  would  not  be 
stylish  to  wear  the  same  again.  The  old  ones 
were  often  disposed  of  to  pedlers,  who  sold  them 
at  a  distance,  exchanging  them  for  new  material. 
The  young  girls  borrowed  Carolina's  dresses  for 
the  fresh  patterns — and  she  was  equally  desirous 
to  vie  with  them  in  the  richness  of  their  embroid 
eries. 

"  Do  not  spend  your  time  sewing,"  said  Luclo- 
vico,  one  day.  "Juanita  can  do  these  things 
beautifully  for  you  —  "  and  his  thoughtless  remark 
involved  Juanita  in  many  a  weary  task,  for  Ludo- 
vico  wished  it,  and  that  was  enough. 

She  wrought  in  silence  and  increased  despair. 
She  saw  and  felt  the  selfishness  of  Carolina,  the 
infatuation  of  Ludovico.  She  was  no  longer  called 
upon  for  her  sympathy,  but  only  for  her  services. 
Indeed,  he  appeared  to  have  forgotten  her  very 
existence  except  when  Carolina  had  a  wish  to  be 
gratified. 

A  generous  heart  may  love  a  deserving  rival, 
but  not  an  unworthy  usurper  of  one's  kingdom  of 
happiness. 

Isabella  felt  scarcely  less  pain  when  she  saw 
that  her  own  influence  was  for  the  time  being 
null  and  void.  Carolina  was  far  from  docile  to  her 
warnings  or  instructions,  in  that  care  of  herself 
which  a  virtuous  woman  must  take  in  a  society  so 
utterly  corrupt  as  that  of  the  Spanish  colonies ; 


THE  NEW  YEAR'S  BALL.  2\\ 

and  Ludovico  thought  only  of  ministering  to  her 
gratification. 

"Remember,  dear  mama,"  he  said  to  his 
mother,  "  she  never  had  a  mother  to  confess  to 
and  account  to  for  her  daily  deeds — you  must  not 
expect  prudence  of  her.  She  thinks  everybody  is 
good." 

"  I  know  it,  my  clear  boy  —  I  will  do  all  I  can  to 
show  her  the  proprieties  of  this  society ;  but  I  am 
afraid  I  cannot  take  the  place  of  her  mother.  She 
hardly  remembers  her  existence,  and  still  less  what 
is  the  value  of  a  mother." 

Ludovico  made  no  reply,  for  he  felt  it  was  too 
true. 

It  were  vain  to  attempt  to  describe  the  state  of 
Helen's  mind.  Uncertain  when  any  change  of 
overseers  could  be  made,  the  family  passed  anx 
ious  days  and  fearful  nights.  Sufficient  warning 
had  been  given  to  the  negroes  not  to  bring  their 
complaints  to  the  house  ;  but  the  Marquis  and  his 
son  passed  little  time  at  home  during  the  mornings, 
riding  about  the  ample  domain  that  their  presence 
might  be  expected  everywhere  and  at  all  times. 
By  noon,  company  demanded  their  presence,  and 
all  was  outward  gayety. 

The  Marchioness  insisted  that  Helen  should  at 
tend  the  village  balls  in  company  with  her  guests, 
and  escorted  either  by  her  husband  or  Ludovico, 
one  or  the  other  remaining  at  home  on  some  pre 
text.  It  mattered  little  to  Helen,  and  she  gave 


212  THE   NEW  YEAR'S  BALL. 

herself  up  to  the  tide  of  events.  The  music  was 
so  fine  even  at  the  village  balls  that  it  alone  made 
the  attendance  upon  them  agreeable. 

Helen's  little  maid  Solidad  was  very  anxious  to 
array  her  for  the  ball,  but  she  could  not  prevail 
upon  her  to  adorn  herself  with  jewels,  for  Helen's 
heart  was  too  sore  to  enable  her  to  wear  finery. 
But  when  Solidad  brought  her  a  beautiful  wreath 
of  orange  flowers,  Helen  allowed  her  to  fasten 
them  in  her  luxuriant  hair.  When  she  emerged 
from  her  apartment  she  was  startled  by  the  sight 
of  a  tall  figure  closely  arrayed  in  white. 

"  Do  not  be  alarmed,  Helen,"  said  Isabella,  "  this 
is  the  way  in  which  we  go  to  a  village  ball,  for  any 
other  garb  in  which  we  might  array  ourselves 
would  be  sure  to  be  stolen  ;  besides  which,  we 
should  be  suffocated,  and  our  dresses  ruined  with 
this  red  dust.  Let  Mrs.  Warwick  pin  you  up 
safely,  and  tie  a  handkerchief  over  your  head,  and 
then  we  shall  be  ready.  All  our  guests  have  been 
made  ghosts  of,  and  gone  before  us.  Ludovico 
waits  for  us." 

The  village  balls  were  as  peculiar  to  the  colonies 
as  all  the  other  customs  which  arrested  Helen's  at 
tention.  They  were  held  in  a  hall  in  a  rustic  vil 
lage  of  bamboo  houses,  which  looked  more  to 
Helen  like  a  Hottentot  kraal  than  anything  else 
she  had  ever  seen  depicted.  The  houses  were 
uniformly  low  structures,  of  one  or  two  apartments, 


7777i    NEW  YEAR'S  BALL.  213 

without  windows  or  chimneys,   with  openings   in 
the  side  wicker-work  for  light  and  air. 

The  company  assembled  in  the  dancing-hall  was 
of  a  motley  character.  It  was  composed  of  the 
proud  Castilian  nobility  and  the  guests  who 
passed  the  holidays  on  their  plantations,  of  coun 
try  planters  and  mountain  peasants,  the  latter  of 
whom  usually  dressed  in  the  pantaloons  and  em 
broidered  shirt  bound  together  by  a  showy  sash 
that  served  the  purpose  of  sword-belt  and  money- 
pouch.  On  this  occasion  they  mounted  a  coat, 
and  thus  made  themselves  candidates  for  the 
hand  of  any  lady  in  the  room.  Introduction  was 
not  necessary,  but  etiquette  prescribed  that  if  any 
lady  refused  the  hand  of  any  partner  who  invited 
her  to  dance,  she  could  not  accept  another. 
Dancing  commenced  by  one  couple  waltzing  in 
the  open  area ;  others  soon  followed,  and  when 
enough  were  upon  the  floor,  they  resolved  them 
selves  into  the  form  of  a  contra-dance,  and  continued 
their  slow,  poetic  motion  to  the  sound  of  the  most 
ravishing  music,  played  by  a  band  of  free  negroes 
from  the  city  of  Havana.  The  plaintive  wildness 
even  of  these  waltzes  went  to  the  heart  of  Helen. 
The  profound  silence  which  is  the  accompaniment 
of  Spanish  dancing  deepened  the  impression  upon 
her  imagination  that  this  was  a  requiem  dance  over 
the  woes  she  had  witnessed.  The  dances  were  long 
as  well  as  grave,  and  were  enjoyed  in  part  for  the 
intrinsic  beauty  of  the  music  and  the  motion. 


214  THE  NEW  YEAR'S  BALL. 

The  simple  figures  of  crossing  hands,  right  and 
left,  dancing  down  the  middle  and  down  outside, 
which  she  ha .1  always  seen  in  the  dances  of  her 
own  hills,  were  repeated  here,  as  probably  every 
where. 

Helen  resisted  all  entreaties  to  join  in  it,  but 
gave  herself  up  to  a  sort  of  melancholy  pleasure 
in  the  spectacle,  which  she  could  not  have  endured 
if  it  had  partaken  of  the  gay  and  noisy  character 
of  American  dancings. 

When  the  music  stopped,  no  conversation  took 
place  except  a  whispered  one  between  the  ladies 
in  their  seats  by  the  wall. 

In  the  intervals  of  the  dances,  the  gentlemen 
usually  disappeared  to  partake  of  another  diver 
sion,  that  ran  side  by  side  with  it.  In  another 
hall  stood  gambling-tables,  on  which  lay  packs  of 
cards.  These  gambling-tables  were  hired  of  the 
owners  of  the  premises,  and  the  fees  given  by 
each  player  paid  the  expenses  of  the  dancing-hall 
and  music.  Indeed,  the  Spaniards  of  the  colonies 
would  have  felt  it  to  be  an  indignity  to  be  called 
upon  to  pay  for  the  privilege  of  dancing,  until 
they  were  in  danger  of  losing  that  pleasure  ;  but 
when  part  of  the  six  months  of  mourning  pre 
scribed  by  the  Governor  for  the  death  of  King 
Ferdinand  was  the  prohibition  of  gambling,  an 
enterprising  American  gentleman  ventured  to 
solicit  a  subscription  for  the  dancing,  and,  con 
trary  to  his  own  expectation,  was  met  with  so 


THE  NEW   YEAR'S  BALL.  21  5 

favorable  a  result  that  a  very  goodly  company  met 
and  danced  on  that  new  basis.  The  dancing  was 
but  a  by-play  to  the  more  important  and  momen 
tous  transaction  of  bartering  away  estates,  even 
homestead  and  the  inheritance  of  their  children, 
which  is  frequently  done  in  this  outwardly  quiet 
but  inwardly  passionate  mode  of  gambling. 

Helen  occupied  herself  in  observing  the  counte 
nances  of  both  dancers  and  gamblers,  and  the 
multifarious  fashions  of  dress  that  met  her  eye. 
The  pretty  brunettes  of  the  plantations  floated  in 
fairy-like  tarletans  or  soft  mulled  muslin,  or  deli 
cate  linens  ornamented  with  rich  embroidery, 
which  had  been  the  work  of  their  hands,  for  many 
long  months,  for  these  express  holidays,  for  they 
must  be  renewed  every  year. 

The  Russian  ambassador's  wife  sported  a  deep 
green  velvet,  trimmed  with  ermine,  to  the  aston 
ished  gaze  of  the  islanders.  It  mattered  not  that 
it  was  wholly  out  of  keeping  with  the  scene  and 
the  climate.  It  made  the  lady  more  conspicuous 
than  the  costly  jewels  that  flashed  on  her  arms 
and  in  her  hair. 

Gray-headed  ladies  danced  solemnly,  as  over 
their  own  graves,  in  short-sleeved  and  low-necked 
dresses,  trusting  to  their  pearls  or  their  diamonds 
to  take  attention  from  their  wrinkles,  or,  when 
portly,  as  many  were,  from  their  graceless  mo 
tions. 

The  mountaineer's  long  sword  dangled  at  his 


2l6  THE  NEW   YEAR'S   BELL. 

side,  as  he  awkwardly  carried  the  unwonted  coat 
that  hampered  his  otherwise  graceful  bearing. 
The  city  gentlemen  danced  in  heavy  broadcloth, 
but  the  plantation  lads,  who  knew  better,  and  had 
a  cool  country  fashion  of  their  own,  quite  as  gen 
teel  because  they  were  so  themselves,  wore  light 
seersucker  jackets,  and  had  a  good  time,  instead  of 
perspiring  under  imposing  dresses. 

The  Russian  ambassador  and  his  wife,  at  the 
earnest  entreaty  of  some  Spanish  gentlemen,  con 
sented  to  give  a  specimen  of  the  German  waltz, 
which  proved  so  distressing  a  performance,  under 
the  velvet  and  ermine,  that,  after  a  few  of  its  rapid 
whirls,  the  lady  fainted  in  her  husband's  arms, 
and  had  to  be  carried  from  the  hall  into  the  open 
air.  Then  came  a  requisition  for  the  French 
quadrille,  one  set  of  which  formed  in  the  centre 
of  the  area,  the  Spaniards  standing  round  it,  and 
clapping  their  hands  at  every  figure  ;  but  they  did 
not  venture  to  emulate  it,  and  the  few  individuals 
who  knew  how  were  very  glad  to  fall  again  into 
the  majestic  national  contra-dance. 

Helen  observed  among  the  guests  who  were 
only  spectators,  like  herself,  a  splendid-looking 
woman,  who  looked  like  a  Jewess,  with  a  young 
lady  by  her  side,  who  was  evidently  her  daughter, 
only  more  beautiful  because  more  youthful.  The 
passionate  interest  with  which  the  latter  looked 
upon  the  dancing,  and  the  expression  that  crossed 
the  countenance  of  the  elderly  lady  as  she  occa- 


THE   NEW   YEAR'S  BALL. 


sionally  looked  upon  her  youthful  companion, 
excited  a  deep  interest  in  Helen.  She  observed 
that  no  invitations  were  offered  them,  although  no 
proud  dame  glittered  with  more  unmistakable 
diamonds  than  those  which  adorned  these  silent 
partakers  of  the  festivity.  Could  they  be  Jews, 
and  could  that  be  the  reason  of  their  exclusion  ? 
Helen  was  not  aware  of  the  Catholic  prejudice 
against  them,  or  she  would  not  have  asked  her 
self  the  question,  for  they  would  not  have  been 
there. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

COCK-FIGHTING. 

WHEN  Carolina  found  from  the  Sunday  visitors, 
who  were  always  numerous,  that  it  was  the  cus 
tom  even  for  ladies  to  go  from  the  morning  Mass 
to  the  cock-fighting  ground,  she  was  very  desirous 
to  do  the  same.  But  the  Marchioness  spent  Sun 
day  morning  in  a  very  different  way.  Her  relig 
ious  education  in  America  had  not  been  Cath 
olic,  as  Carolina's  had  nominally  been.  When 
she  married  the  Marquis  of  Rodriguez,  it  was 
inevitably  by  the  form  of  the  Catholic  Church, 
but  her  husband  knew  she  was  not  of  that  faith, 
and  the  Cuban  gentry  had  ceased  to  make  any 
religious  observances  obligatory,  so  that  tolera 
tion  was  a  fact,  though  not  a  principle,  and,  unless 
circumstances  raised  a  question  upon  the  subject, 
none  were  enforced.  Shortly  after  her  marriage, 
one  of  the  Massachusetts  Unitarian  clergymen 
visited  Cuba  in  pursuit  of  health,  and  was  sent 
to  La  Consolacion  by  friends  of  the  Marquis 
to  whose  kindness  he  had  been  consigned,  because 
they  knew  his  wife  was  conversant  with  the  Eng 
lish  language.  They  probably  did  not  know  she 
was  not  a  Catholic,  however.  This  gentleman 

218 


COCK-FIGHTING.  2 1 9 

carried  with  him  a  great  many  books,  and  passed 
several  months  at  La  Consolacion,  where  his  su 
perior  mental  and  moral  endowments  made  him  a 
welcome  guest.  While  there  he  was  invited  on 
Sunday  mornings  to  read  from  the  religious  lit 
erature  he  brought  with  him,  which  were  the 
sermons  and  writings  of  Channing  and  other 
Unitarian  writers.  The  Marquis  listened  to  this 
reading,  and  was  interested  in  it.  It  was  ethical, 
not  controversial  literature,  and  the  Marquis' 
European  education  had  exempted  him  from  any 
allegiance  to  the  Catholic  priesthood,  and  natu 
rally  from  any  bigotry.  His  admiration  for  his 
wife  was  a  much  more  potent  influence.  After 
the  departure  of  their  clerical  friend,  who  left  all 
his  books  with  them,  and  as  long  as  he  lived  sent 
them  fresh  works  of  a  similar  kind,  their  Sunday 
morning  readings  were  continued,  and  Ludovico 
had  thus  been  educated  religiously  in  the  spirit  of 
enlightened  Protestantism,  without  any  special 
efforts  at  proselyting.  He  had  never  attended 
Mass,  nor  the  Sunday  cock-fights,  although  he 
always  heard  them  discussed  and  described  with 
all  the  heat  and  passion  with  which  Cuban  so 
ciety  pursue  their  sports.  Every  young  man 
Ludovico  knew  owned  a  favorite  cock,  and  some 
times  brought  it  under  his  arm  when  he  made 
a  Sunday  call.  Madame  Cazneau  expressed  her 
pleasure  that  her  young  friend  was  not  exposed 
to  the  barbarizing  influence  of  such  a  sport,  and 


220  COCK-FIGHTING. 

was  happy  to  listen  to  the  reading  of  the  Mar 
chioness,  and  to  hear  of  the  clerical  friend  who 
had  left  such  a  deep  impress  of  his  character  and 
culture.  It  happened  that  the  rite  of  the  com 
munion  service  was  the  subject  of  the  sermon  read 
that  day,  and  Madame  Cazneau,  who  was  an 
ardent  Catholic  herself,  a  lady  bountiful  and  much 
revered  for  her  benevolence  in  the  Catholic  church 
of  Philadelphia,  and  to  whose  school  many  children 
besides  those  of  the  Catholics  were  sent,  remarked 
that  it  always  had  seemed  to  her  that  the  Unita 
rians  were  the  most  consistent  and  reasonable  of 
all  the  rebellious  daughters  of  the  church,  and  she 
wished  Miss  Wentworth  would  tell  her  their  pre 
cise  views  in  regard  to  that  special  rite,  for,  if  they 
did  not  believe  in  transubstantiation,  what  did 
they  believe  in  ? 

Miss  Wentworth  replied  that  they  observed  it 
as  a  memorial  rite,  not  as  one  of  any  supernatural 
influence. 

"There  is  some  sense  in  that,"  the  lady  replied, 
"and  now  I  understand  it." 

But  Carolina  was  not  interested  in  the  conver 
sation.  She  evidently  preferred  the  license  of  no 
belief  in  anything  that  would  interfere  with  her 
amusement,  and,  as  soon  as  the  reading  was  over, 
which  every  one  else  had  enjoyed,  she  sauntered 
out  of  the  room  in  evident  displeasure,  and  was 
only  restored  to  good  humor  by  the  arrival  of 
guests  full  of  excitement.  Here  was  another 


COCK-FIGHTING,  221 

pleasure  which  she  was  evidently  to  be  forbidden, 
and  she  did  not  hesitate  to  express  her  regrets  for 
the  loss.  The  Marchioness  was  so  highly  re 
spected  that  none  of  her  visitors  were  disposed  to 
take  exceptions  to  any  of  her  proceedings,  and 
she  had  never  been  annoyed  by  any  questioning 
of  them.  But  this  rebellious  little  inmate  was 
introducing  new  sentiments  into  the  family  circle, 
and  the  Marchioness  was  very  glad  to  have 
Madame  Cazneau's  sympathy  on  this  particular 
subject.  But  no  one's  opinion  influenced  Car 
olina,  and  Isabella's  heart  sank  within  her  when 
she  thought  of  how  potent  it  was  likely  to  be  in 
quarters  where  her  own  had  never  yet  been  dis 
puted. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  CACTUS.  THE  SLEEVE  OF  WIND. 

As  the  rainy  season  approached,  the  visitors, 
and  even  the  owners  of  the  plantations,  found 
their  way  back  to  the  city,  where  they  prefer  to 
pass  the  summer  months,  during  which,  from  May 
to  September,  the  heavy  tropical  rains  prevail, 
rendering  locomotion  almost  impossible. 

Horseback  rides  were  now  all  the  rage  with 
Carolina,  and  Helen  was  always  glad  to  make  one 
of  the  party ;  for  she  had  been  a  natural  horse 
woman,  as  it  were,  on  New  England  hills,  where 
girls  ride  as  if  by  instinct,  without  any  need  of 
riding-masters.  Helen  had  often  dropped  from 
the  branch  of  a  tree,  in  which  she  used  to  get  her 
lessons,  upon  the  back  of  a  favorite  pony  that 
would  come  at  her  call,  and  gently  trot  her  round 
the  fields,  as  she  clung  to  his  mane. 

One  evening,  as  the  party  was  returning  from  a 
ride  through  a  fine  wood,  an  oppressive  odor  of 
living  sweets  elicited  from  Ludovico  the  excla 
mation  :  — 

"The  cactus!  the  cactus!"  And,  guided  by 
the  perfume,  they  soon  stood  before  a  vine  that 


THE  CACTUS.— THE  SLEEVE   OF   WIND. 


223 


resembled  a  dried  corn-stalk  in  texture,  and  wound 
in  huge  contortions  round  a  knotted  stump. 

"  It  is  the  glory  of  the  world  !  "   said  Ludovico. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  Where?"  said  Carolina. 
"  Is  it  this  dried-up  old  vine  ?" 

Helen  had  once  seen  the  vine  in  a  northern 
greenhouse,  and  had  a  distant  view  of  the  flower 
over  the  heads  of  a  crowd  of  visitors,  assembled 
to  behold  the  rare  wonder.  She  at  once  recog 
nized  it,  and  the  next  moment  saw  eight  or  ten 
large  buds  standing  erect,  ready  to  expand. 

The  riders  alighted  from  their  horses,  to  watch 
the  process  of  this  prodigy  of  nature,  and,  for  the 
moment,  she  forgot  everything  painful  in  the  con 
templation  of  the  living,  breathing  miracle.  The 
expansion  of  the  flowers  began  slowly,  but  per 
ceptibly.  The  pedicles,  nearly  a  foot  in  length, 
stood  erect  upon  the  vine.  As  Helen  gazed  into 
one  of  them,  she  saw  life, — it  seemed  to  her 
that  she  saw  intelligence,  and  felt  the  breath  of  a 
sentient  being.  The  long  filaments,  that  had  re 
posed  upon  the  delicate  lance-shaped  petals,  were 
gradually  rising  from  their  bed,  and  clinging 
round  the  pistil,  which  rose  in  the  middle  of  the 
flower.  It  slightly  resembled  the  pond-lily  of  her 
native  lakes,  but  was  at  once  more  gigantic  and 
more  delicate.  A  gleam  of  green  and  golden  sun 
light,  as  it  were,  streamed  up  from  within  the 
long  tube  of  the  pedicle.  The  light  in  the  sky 
was  fading,  but  enough  remained  to  show  the  rich 


224 


THE   CACTUS.— THE  SLEEVE   OF   WIND. 


brown  tint  of  the  calyx,  which  softens  off  through 
every  shade  of  that  color  to  the  dazzling  white 
ness  of  the  inner  petals,  which  gradually  fall  back, 
as  it  expands,  and  form  a  large  disc.  It  seemed 
as  if  that  stiff  brown  stalk  communicated  at  its 
base  with  some  hidden  sun.  The  gleam  that 
struck  up  from  below,  and  illuminated  the  interior 
of  the  flower,  was  as  brilliant  and  as  soft  as  the 
light  of  an  unclouded  evening  sky,  after  the  sun 
has  sunk  below  the  horizon.  But  whence  streamed 
the  radiance  that  gleamed  on  every  petal  ?  What 
was  the  inexplicable  motion  that  ravished  her 
sight  ?  Is  beauty  indeed  motion  ?  she  asked  her 
self.  As  she  watched  the  now  rapid  expansion, 
which  seemed  to  be  accelerated  by  some  hidden 
force,  she  was  aware  that  the  appearance  of  life 
and  light  was  the  result  of  the  motion  of  the  fila 
ments,  as  they  altered  their  position.  And  Helen 
took  heart  of  hope,  as  she  saw  this  supernal  light 
stream  £rom  the  dry  stalk  of  the  cereus  vine,  that 
lay  prone  for  many  yards  around,  its  stars  gleam 
ing  forth  upon  the  night.  Flowers  had  always 
spoken  to  her  heart  like  intelligent  beings.  This 
most  glorious  of  all  flowers,  shining  out  upon  the 
dark  night,  brought  back  her  old  faith,  that  God 
had  not  forsaken  even  the  land  of  the  slave,  and 
the  clear  stars  of  the  upper  firmament,  which  had 
of  late  been  dimmed  in  her  eyes,  again  poured 
down  their  radiance  upon  her. 

As  the  party  turned  their  horses   homeward,  a 


THE    CACTUS.—  THE   SLEEVE    OF   WIND.    22$ 

roll  of  distant  thunder  warned  them  of  a  coming 
storm.  As  they  approached  the  house,  which  was 
not  far  distant,  they  observed  a  crowd  of  negroes 
standing  in  the  dusky  twilight  at  the  foot  of  the 
steps.  Helen's  heart  sank  within  her,  for  she 
apprehended  some  new  calamity,  and  immediately 
she  saw  a  tall,  stout  negro,  with  his  hand  hanging 
by  the  skin  from  his  wrist,  severed  from  the  arm 
and  spouting  blood. 

Don  Ermite,  the  overseer,  was  inquiring  for  the 
Marquis,  and  the  household  servants  were  running 
to  and  fro  in  pursuit  of  him.  He  soon  appeared 
and  retired  to  his  apartment  with  the  overseer. 

The  story  was  soon  told.  Don  Ermite  had 
returned  to  the  field  to  recall  one  of  his  dogs 
whose  bark  directed  him  to  a  hollow  tree,  which 
proved  to  have  been  the  place  of  concealment  of 
a  fugitive  slave  from  a  neighboring  plantation. 
The  negro  had  been  surprised  out  of  his  hiding- 
place  by  the  dog,  who  attacked  him,  and  he  was 
now  defending  himself  with  his  long  machete,  or 
weeding-knife,  for  their  daily  task  of  weeding  is 
performed  by  the  slaves  in  a  stooping  posture,  by 
the  aid  of  this  rude  weapon  of  husbandry.  He 
had  severed  the  hamstring  of  the  dog  in  his 
attempt  to  save  himself  from  being  torn  and 
mangled,  an  operation  which  these  fierce  animals 
achieve  in  a  few  moments. 

Don  Ermite,  enraged  at  the  act,  drew  the  sword 
which  always  hangs  at  the  overseer's  side,  and 


226      THE  CACTCS.—  rifE   SLEEVE  OF  WIND. 

with  one  blow  cut  off  his  hand.  He  had  no 
sooner  done  the  deed  than  the  consequences 
flashed  upon  him.  He  knew  too  well  the  danger 
he  incurred,  for  he  did  not  doubt  that  this  was  the 
fugitive  who  had  been  in  vain  hunted  for  several 
weeks,  and  who  belonged  to  a  neighboring  planter 
of  great  cruelty,  —  and,  what  was  more  important 
to  him,  an  enemy  of  the  Marquis  of  Rodriguez. 
This  enmity  had  been  excited  by  Don  Alfonso's 
knowing  that  the  Marquis  was  acquainted  with  a 
case  of  very  atrocious  cruelty  that  had  occurred 
on  his  plantation,  several  years  since,  one  of  those 
cases  so  heinous  that  planters  of  decent  char 
acter  could  not  pass  over  it  in  silence  if  it  was 
once  made  public.  He  had  been  heavily  mulcted 
for  it,  and  from  that  day  had  been  the  sworn 
enemy  of  several  of  his  neighbors,  who  had  in 
dicted  him  for  the  offence.  The  circumstances 
were  well  known  in  the  district.  He  had  never 
yet  paid  the  fine,  and  was  known  to  have  sent 
away  his  coffee  by  night  ever  since,  to  escape  the 
possibility  of  its  being  seized  for  the  debt.  No 
one  ventured  to  interfere  with  this  proceeding,  for 
he  was  the  terror  of  the  country  ;  and  such  is  the 
corruption  of  the  judiciary  in  the  Spanish  colonies, 
that  a  moneyed  man  can  act  with  impunity  as  long- 
as  he  can  offer  bribes  of  sufficient  magnitude. 

When  the  Marquis  and  the  overseer  emerged 
from  the  house,  the  former  gave  the  order  that 
the  wounded  man  should  be  sent  to  the  hospital, 


THE  CACTUS.—  THE  SLEEVE  OF  WIND.     227 

and  the  overseer,  after  seeing  it  clone,  mounted  his 
horse  to  seek  a  physician  from  the  nearest  village, 
three  miles  distant. 

The  poor  fellow  was  laid  upon  the  gallery  of 
the  hospital  to  await  the  return  of  the  passionate 
wretch  who  had  injured  him,  and  who  was  to  have 
the  sole  care  of  him,  that  the  Marquis  might  not 
be  drawn  into  difficulty.  No  aid  whatever  was 
allowed  the  sufferer.  No  friendly  negro  was 
allowed  even  to  bind  up  his  hand.  If  he  should 
die  of  bleeding,  the  responsibility  must  rest  with 
the  overseer. 

No  entreaties  of  Isabella's  could  alter  her 
husband's  determination  upon  this  .point,  for  he 
too  well  knew  what  the  consequences  would  be  to 
himself  and  his  fortunes.  No  pains  would  be 
spared  by  the  owner  of  the  slave,  as  Isabella  as 
sured  Helen,  to  draw  the  Marquis  into  the  case, 
and,  in  the  legal  processes  that  would  be  insti 
tuted,  he  might  be  stripped  of  all  his  patrimony, 
for  his  estate  was  a  coffee  estate,  which  was  not 
protected  by  statute  like  the  sugar  estates. 

This  was  all  the  defence  that  was  offered  to 
outraged  humanity. 

The  Marchioness  was  too  much  occupied  in 
quieting  the  agitation  of  her  children,  from  whom 
this  sad  outrage  could  not  be  concealed,  to  talk 
long  with  Helen.  Ludovico  was  endeavoring  to 
excuse  the  transaction  on  the  plea  of  necessity,  to 
which  Carolina  listened  very  quietly,  not  shocked, 


228      THE  CACTUS.—  THE  SLEEl'E  OF  WIND. 

as  Ludovico  really  was  himself,  and  fondly  imag 
ined  her  to  be,  but  quite  ready  to  admit  the  plea. 

Helen  saw  that  the  corruption  of  the  noble 
young  man  had  commenced  its  work,  but  could 
she  speak  against  the  parent  ? 

A  startling  peal  of  thunder  and  a  crash  of  rain 
brought  every  one  to  his  feet,  and  it  was  followed 
in  quick  succession  by  another  and  another. 

It  was  the  first  shower  that  had  occurred  since 
the  arrival  of  either  of  the  ladies,  and  one  of  un 
usual  violence.  The  lightning  appeared  to  enter 
the  house  and  play  round  under  the  chairs  and 
tables,  and  its  flash  was  of  a  deep  red  hue,  that 
looked  as  if  the  very  atmosphere  was  in  flames. 
For  a  few  moments  the  thunder  rattled  in  the  tiles 
of  the  house,  as  if  imprisoned  there.  Carolina 
fainted  with  terror.  The  servants  of  the  house, 
and,  indeed,  many  from  the  quarters,  rushed  in  to 
the  hall  as  if  they  could  find  greater  safety  in  the 
presence  of  their  superiors,  who  allowed  them  to 
crouch  around  them  while  the  fury  of  the  storm 
lasted.  Its  extreme,  violence  abated  in  about 
twenty  minutes  ;  but,  from  the  steady  howling  of 
the  blast,  and  the  continued  illumination  of  the 
atmosphere,  produced  by  the  whirling  of  the  red 
powdered  earth,  upon  which  the  lightning,  now 
one  sheet  of  uninterrupted  flame,  shone  and  was 
reflected,  gave  evidence  that  it  raged  at  least  as 
fiercely  not  far  away.  The  lawn  was  soon  turned 
into  a  laguna,  and  if  the  house  had  stood  upon 


THE  CACTUS.—  THE  SLEEVE  OE  WIND.      22Q 

the  ground,  as  most  of  the  Cuban  country-houses 
do,  it  would  have  been  in  danger  of  floating  from 
its  moorings. 

The  war  of  the  elements,  however,  was  rather 
congenial  than  otherwise  to  Helen,  in  the  high- 
wrought  state  of  her  feelings  this  evening.  It  was 
not  her  nature,  hitherto,  to  rage  ;  but  indignation 
boiled  within  her  at  these  accumulating  and  ever 
recurring  horrors,  and  she  hardly  knew  herself. 
She  saw  how  the  terrors  of  the  storm  paralyzed 
the  weak  natures  around  her.  Perhaps  she  gave 
them  credit  for  more  sympathy  with  the  moral 
tempest  that  raged  within  herself  than  they 
merited.  They  cowered  at  the  roar  of  the  ele 
ments,  while  she  stood  aghast  at  the  depravity  of 
man.  Their  childlike  confidence  touched  her. 
They  sought  refuge  and  protection  near  that  very 
master  who  held  usurped  possession  of  them.  She 
had  become  aware  before  this  time  that  the  slaves 
looked  to  the  master  for  protection  from  the  im 
mediate  agent  whom  he  sets  over  them,  and  this 
fiction  of  their  imaginations  had  been  more 
pathetic  to  her  than  any  direct  appeal  they  could 
make,  when  they  fled  from  the  terrific  dogs  of  the 
present  incumbent  of  that  dreaded  position.  She 
credited  this  homage  of  their  hearts  to  the  instinc 
tive  feeling  with  which  men  look  up  to  what  is 
above  them.  They  trusted  till  their  faith  was 
broken,  even  hoping  for  protection  against  hope. 
Their  mistress'  kindness  was  all  the  providence 


230      7 VIE  CACTUS.—  THE  SLEET E  OF  WIND. 

they  knew,  and  every  human  soul  believes  there 
is  one  standing  over  it.  It  is  the  soul's  birth 
right,  and  is  only  transferred,  never  lost. 

"  Poor  man  drowned,  lying  on  the  gallery ! 
bleeding !  bleeding  !  "  whispered  mumma  Camilla 
to  another  negress,  who  stood  near  Helen. 

"Was  he  not  carried  inside?"  asked  Helen,  in 
the  same  tone. 

"  Ave,  Sanctissima  !  no,  lady  !  no  !  lying  on  the 
gallery  !  dead  now  perhaps  !  May  God  take  him  !  " 

"  May  he  take  him  indeed,"  murmured  Helen. 

The  lightning  continued  to  flash,  and  the  thun 
der  growled  unremittingly  in  the  distance  ;  but  the 
violence  of  the  rain  had  in  no  measure  subsided 
when  the  Marquis  ordered  the  domestics  back 
to  their  quarters. 

Camilla  had  assisted  Ludovico  in  the  care  of 
Carolina,  who  now  lay  quietly  upon  the  sofa, 
thinking  more  of  her  own  fears  than  of  the 
wrongs  of  others. 

Good  Mrs.  Warwick  had  done  her  best  to  help 
the  Marchioness  soothe  her  children,  who  now 
began  to  prattle  their  fears. 

"  Papa,  where's  that  poor  man  ?"  said  Manuel. 

The  Marquis  made  no  reply,  but  continued  to 
pace  the  salon. 

"  Oh,  Manuel  !  don't  talk  about  that  man  !  " 
sobbed  little  Pepita.  "  Mama,  when  will  the  doc 
tor  be  here  ?  " 

"  Isabella,"    said  the  Marquis,  approaching  his 


THE  CACTUS.—  THE  SLEEVE  OF  WIND.     231 

wife,  "  that  man  must  be  sent  for.  Who  can  go  ? 
we  must  send  some  of  these  people." 

"  This  terrible  night,  dear  Hernando  !  I  do  not 
know  who  will  dare  to  go  —  these  people  are  such 
cowards." 

"  We  must  insist  upon  it  ;  everything  depends 
upon  it.  We  must  protect  them  from  the  storm 
as  well  as  we  can." 

The  most  experienced  coachmen  were  sum 
moned,  and,  contrary  to  all  expectation,  were  will 
ing  to  brave  the  dangers  of  the  night  for  the  sake 
of  finding  the  overseer  and  bringing  the  doctor. 
The  former  motive  was  doubtless  the  stronger, 
for  they  knew  perfectly  well  to  what  penalties  he 
had  subjected  himself. 

"  I  shall  be  glad  if  he  has  not  escaped  to  the 
mountains,"  the  Marquis  remarked  to  his  wife,  as 
the  men  rode  from  the  door,  well  mounted,  and 
well  protected  by  blankets. 

Helen  retired  at  last  to  her  apartment  to  pass 
another  wakeful  and  feverish  night. 

Towards  morning,  the  negroes  returned  with 
the  tidings  that  Don  Ermite  had  been  detained 
by  the  storm,  but  was  coming  soon  with  the  phy 
sician.  Many  hours  of  anxious  suspense  followed, 
during  which  the  mangled  negro  lay  untouched 
upon  the  hard  floor  of  the  gallery,  without  being 
approached  by  a  human  being,  but  his  groans 
gave  evidence  that  he  still  lived.  The  hospital 
was  sufficiently  near  to  keep  all  the  household 


232      THE  CACTUS.—  THE  SLEEVE  OF  WIND. 

cognizant  of  the  sad  fact.  It  was  high  noon  be 
fore  relief  came,  and  then  it  was  not  relief,  but  he 
was  moved  by  Don  Ermite  and  the  Spanish  phy- 
.  sician  out  of  the  burning  sun  into  the  interior  of 
the  hospital,  the  hand  was  spliced  to  the  wrist 
and  bound  up  in  a  bag,  and  an  opiate  administered. 
When  the  effect  of  that  was  over,  he  waked  to  suf 
fer  again,  and  several  weeks  passed  in  alternate 
ravings  and  uneasy  slumbers  ;  the  slumbers  being 
the  only  relief  either  patient  or  listeners  enjoyed. 
Every  day  fervent  prayers  went  up  from  many 
hearts  for  his  release;  but  nature  weathered  it  out, 
no  one  could  tell  how. 

Meantime,  the  runaway  slave's  owner  was  not 
idle.  On  that  very  clay  had  arrived  a  party  of  ten, 
justices  and  lawyers,  to  investigate  the  circum 
stances.  This  investigation  consisted  in  taking 
depositions  from  every  party  in  any  way  concerned 
in  the  case,  and  here  the  Marquis'  precautions 
were  justified  by  the  event,  as  far  as  events  could 
justify  them. 

The  great  bell  summoned  all  the  negroes  from 
the  field,  and  for  the  time  the  salon  was  trans 
formed  into  a  court  of  justice.  But  no  one  could 
make  any  deposition  but  the  Marquis  and  the 
overseer,  for  no  one  else  had  been  allowed  to 
speak  with  or  to  touch  the  wounded  man.  Day 
after  day  this  party  returned  with  the  object  of 
involving  the  family  in  the  quarrel,  and  Isabella 
was  obliged  to  preside  at  the  table  and  exercise  all 


THE  CACTUS.—  THE  SLEEVE  OF  WIND.     233 

the  rights  of  hospitality  to  the  very  courteous  in 
dividuals  who  were  employed  to  harass  her  and 
her  family,  the  owner  of  the  slave  not  once  making 
his  appearance.  At  last  the  persecution  was 
withdrawn,  and  the  overseer  cast  into  prison  to 
await  his  trial.  No  movement  was  made  to  return 
the  slave  to  his  owner.  He  was  of  no  use,  and 
was  abandoned  to  the  mercy  of  the  Marquis  of 
Rodriguez,  who  no  longer  prohibited  Isabella  from 
giving  him  the  care  and  attendance  she  had  so 
long  wished  to  bestow. 

When  the  excitement  of  this  visitation  was 
over,  the  Marchioness  fell  into  a  condition  of 
weakness  that  alarmed  all  her  family.  The  events 
of  the  last  few  weeks  have  been  but  partially  told. 
All  that  we  have  noted  was  on  the  surface,  but 
are  there  not  two  worlds  on  every  plantation  ? 

The  family  of  the  overseer,  who  were  peasants 
in  the  mountain  district,  came  down  to  the  plains 
to  rescue  their  brother  from  the  law.  They  were 
well  off  in  worldly  goods,  for  they  cultivated  good 
sitios,  or  farms,  guarded  by  dogs,  and  were  the 
natural  enemies  of  the  negro,  and,  therefore,  the 
natural  allies  of  the  planters  in  case  of  insurrection. 
They  had  a  right  to  expect  aid  in  their  object  of 
saving  their  brother  from  rotting  in  a  wretched 
jail,  which  was  his  probable  fate  ;  but  the  Mar 
quis  refused  to  take  any  part  in  the  matter,  and 
sent  them  to  plead  for  themselves  before  Don 
Alfonso.  Angry,  and  swearing  revenge,  they  left 


234      THE  CACTUS.—  THE  SLEEVE  OF  WIND. 

the  plantation,  and  Isabella  now  felt  anxious  in 
the  fear  that  they  might  execute  it  with  violence, 
negatively  if  not  positively,  for  the  peasants  form  a 
very  distinct  class,  and  much  care  is  taken  to  keep 
them  on  friendly  terms.  Overseers  are  chiefly 
furnished  from  that  class,  also,  a  sturdy  race  of 
mountaineers,  descendants  of  the  old  Spaniards 
and  the  Indians  of  the  island.  It  might  be  diffi 
cult  to  supply  Don  Ermite's  place,  and  slave-gangs 
will  not  work  if  not  watched.  Anarchy  soon  reigns 
on  a  plantation  if  it  is  not  thoroughly  and  reso 
lutely  managed,  and  these  were  chiefly  bozals  who 
took  the  places  of  the  victims  of  the  last  year's 
cholera,  and  were  not  yet  wholly  aware  of  their 
limitations.  The  prospect  was  an  appalling 
one. 

But  Isabella  said  nothing  of  these  dangers  to 
her  friend. 

The  overseer  of  a  neighboring  plantation,  who 
had  charitably  helped  the  Marquis  take  care  of 
his  slaves  the  year  before,  when  cholera  visited 
them,  gave  what  assistance  he  could  to  the  Mar 
quis  in  this  emergency. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

PEDRO    AND    DOLORES. 

LET  us  now  look  into  the  lower  world  of  La 
Consolacion  a  little  more  closely. 

When  the  "  Justicia"  came  to  the  plantation  to 
make  their  investigations,  the  startling  sound  of 
the  great  bell,  rung  at  an  unusual  hour,  caused 
every  negro  to  pause  and  wonder  before  he 
dropped  his  working  tool.  They  had  gone  to  the 
field  under  a  temporary  leader,  selected  from  their 
own  number,  and  the  work  of  the  day  had  gone  on 
without  noise,  but  with  less  constraint  than  usual, 
not  so  much  because  the  overseer's  eye  was  not 
upon  them,  as  because  each  one  was  occupied 
with  his  own  reflections  upon  the  accident  and  the 
storm  of  the  night  before,  which,  to  their  simple 
apprehensions,  were  intimately  connected  in  the 
relatron  of  cause  and  effect. 

Enough  of  them  had  seen  the  bleeding  man, 
and  recognized  in  him  one  of  Don  Alfonso's 
negroes,  to  comprehend  the  whole  affair,  and  they 
had  communicated  to  each  other  all  they  knew 
before  the  summons  came.  A  common  hatred  of 
the  tyrant  overseer  made  them  rejoice  in  his  ex 
pected  ruin,  and  they  hastened  to  answer  the  roll- 

235 


236  PEDRO  AA'D  DOLORES. 

call.  A  short  examination  was  all  that  was  held 
on  that  day,  as  no  one  could  give  any  information 
farther  than  that  they  had  seen  the  man  brought 
to  the  house  by  Don  Ermite  on  the  night  when 
he  had  returned  to  the  field  to  seek  his  dog. 

Every  negro  answered  to  his  name  but  one. 
One  girl  was  reported  sick,  and  was  found  in  her 
cabin  raving  with  fever,  and  incapable  of  giving 
any  evidence. 

No  importance  was  attached  to  this  circum 
stance.  On  ordinary  occasions  she  would  have 
been  carried  to  the  hospital,  but  no  notice  had 
been  taken  of  her  absence  at  the  morning  roll  by 
the  man  who  took  the  overseer's  place,  who  was 
no  other  than  Pope  Urban. 

The  fugitive  negro  was  no  other  than  Pedro, 
who  had  been  purchased  by  Don  Alfonso,  as  he 
was  familiarly  termed,  the  Marquis'  vengeful  foe. 
To  escape  the  vigilance  of  his  various  creditors, 
the  law  that  had  mulcted  him  among  the  rest, 
Don  Alfonso  had  had  his  coffee  conveyed  away  at 
night  for  many  years  ;  and,  to  effect  this,  his 
negroes  were  subjected  to  double  tasks.  Pi|  was 
a  cruel  master  at  best  ;  but  the  night  work 
brought  unusual  suffering  upon  his  slaves,  who 
were  always  ill  fed,  ill  housed,  ill  clothed,  and 
savagely  punished. 

Pedro  had  found  no  interpreter  upon  the  plan 
tation,  but  was  soon  made  aware  that  no  mercy 
was  to  be  expected  either  of  master  or  overseer. 


PEDRO  AND  DOLORES.  237 

The  coffee  was  dried  by  artificial  heat  in  pits  pre 
pared  for  the  purpose,  instead  of  being  dried  in 
the  sun,  and  was  then  buried  with  much  secrecy, 
to  be  transported  from  the  plantation  at  night  in 
bags  upon  the  shoulders  of  the  slaves,  who  carried 
it  through  a  wood  to  deliver  it  to  a  man  who  was 
employed  by  Don  Alfonso  to  receive  it.  Few  per 
sons  knew  the  means  employed  or  the  details  of 
the  suffering  involved,  for  furious  dogs  guarded 
the  plantation  ;  but  it  was  well  known  that  Don 
Alfonso's  negroes  occasionally  escaped,  and  that 
those  recaptured  were  terribly  punished. 

Pedro  did  not  wait  to  learn  the  difficulties  of 
the  attempt,  but  soon  took  advantage  of  the 
night-work  to  hide  in  the  woods  and  make  his 
way  from  the  earthly  hell  in  which  he  found  him 
self.  No  fate  could  be  worse  than  that.  He  had 
suffered  one  terrible  chastisement  for  remissness 
in  the  work  assigned  him,  and  had  then  been  set 
to  work  upon  his  hands  and  knees,  not  being  able 
to  support  himself  upon  his  feet.  He  could  not 
escape  to  any  distance,  but  had  hidden  in  a  hollow 
tree  op  the  plantation  of  La  Consolacion,  and  had 
there  fed  upon  plantains  and  oranges,  gathered  at 
night.  Strict  search  had  been  made  for  him  on 
the  Marquis'  plantation,  but  in  vain.  Growing  a 
little  more  courageous  by  degrees,  he  had  punc 
tured  a  small  hole  in  the  tree  in  which  he  had 
taken  refuge,  and  from  this  he  could  watch  others 
without  being  seen  himself.  He  had  no  plan  of 


238  PEDRO  AND  DOLORES. 

escape,  he  knew  not  which  way  to  go,  and  was  too 
lame  and  sore  to  attempt  farther  flight  for  many 
weeks.  . 

It  happened  that  one  evening,  after  the  slave- 
gang  had  returned  from  work,  a  girl  was  sent 
back  to  find  her  machete,  which  she  had  left. 
She  took  a  shorter  path  than  the  avenue  through 
the  coffee  squares,  and,  as  she  passed  the  hollow 
tree,  was  transfixed  with  astonishment  at  hearing 
her  own  African  name  pronounced  in  a  low  voice. 
No  one  knew  that  name  but  Pedro,  for  this  was 
Dolores,  who  had  been  purchased  for  La  Consola- 
cion  shortly  after  the  sale  of  Pedro. 

She  stood  for  a  moment,  every  sense  trans 
muted  into  that  of  hearing.  She  heard  the  same 
word  again,  and  now  perceived  that  it  came  from 
the  tree.  A  few  suppressed  words  told  her  the 
whole  story,  and  the  next  moment  she  heard  the 
call  of  the  driver,  and  plunged  through  the  coffee 
in  search  of  the  knife,  and  immediately  rejoined 
the  gang.  The  driver  saw  her  breathless  and 
excited,  but,  supposing  it  was  only  from  the  haste 
of  the  search  she  had  made,  and  the  fear  of  pun 
ishment,  took  no  farther  notice  of  it.  It  was  with 
difficulty  she  controlled  herself  to  stand  in  the 
mustered  row  and  answer  to  the  roll-call.  When 
she  was  shut  into  her  cabin  at  night,  she  threw 
herself  upon  the  ground,  and  rolled  over  and  over 
in  strong  convulsions,  from  which  her  night  com 
panion  found  it  difficult  to  restore  her.  The 


PEDRO   AATD   DOLORES.  239 

next  morning  she  was  reported  for  the  hospital ; 
but,  strange  as  it  appeared  to  others,  who  sought 
excuses  to  be  put  into  those  comfortable  quarters, 
she  preferred  to  go  into  the  field.  Dolores'  fits, 
as  the  other  slave  called  them,  were  so  frequent 
at  night  that  at  last  her  companion  begged  shel 
ter  in  another  cabin,  and  she  was  left  to  pass  her 
nights  alone.  She  had  become  an  altered  crea 
ture  from  the  time  of  the  fearful  discovery. 
Her  hitherto  listless  demeanor  had  given  place  to 
a  fiery  energy  and  restless  activity  which  com 
pletely  transformed  her.  It  was  this  change 
which  the  Marchioness  had  noticed  when  she  met 
her  on  the  evening  drive.  Subsequent  events 
had  banished  the  young  girl  from  her  thoughts. 
But  Dolores  had  one  friend. 

It  is  customary  for  the  slaves  of  a  plantation  to 
gather  round  a  new-comer  to  ascertain  if  he  is  one 
of  their  own  tribe  ;  for  fresh  importations  are  so 
constantly  landed  on  the  coast  of  Cuba,  that  unex 
pected  meetings  sometimes  take  place,  and  the 
same  dialect,  even  of  strangers,  immediately  forms 
a  bond  of  union.  Dolores  had  found  but  one 
fellow-slave  who  recognized  the  language  of  her 
tribe,  and  that  was  Pope  Urban. 

Pope  Urban  was  one  of  that  band  of  young  men 
who  had  left  the  valley  of  the  Ayete  to  see  the 
world,  and  had  been  seized  and  sold,  and  therefore 
never  was  heard  of  by  its  inhabitants  again.  He 
was  overjoyed  to  recognize  a  fellow-countrywoman 


24O  PEDRO   AND   DOLORES. 

in  Dolores,  and  was  the  only  person  with  whom 
she  had  ever  held  communication.  Urbano  had 
never  confided  her  story,  which  she  told  him,  to 
his  kind  mistress.  No  temptations  are  offered 
for  such  confidence.  But  she  had  noticed  his 
interest  in  Dolores,  and  knew  that  he  understood 
her  dialect. 

Dolores  was  glad  to  be  left  alone  at  night,  and 
no  sooner  was  she  sure  of  this  immunity  from 
observation  than  she  determined  to  venture  out 
under  protection  of  the  darkness.  She  had  heard 
of  the  danger  from  dogs ;  but  she  was  young,  and 
took  no  counsel  of  prudence.  She  did  not  think 
long,  but  began  at  once  to  remove  —  with  her  long 
knife  and  her  hands  —  the  clay  floor  of  her  cabin, 
and  to  burrow  out  under  the  bamboo  stakes  that 
formed  the  structure.  She  did  this  noiselessly, 
and,  after  it  was  completed,  she  waited  long 
enough  to  be  sure  that  every  one  in  the  neighbor 
hood  was  asleep.  The  cabins  of  the  slaves  stood 
upon  the  edge  of  a  coffee  square.  The  dogs 
watched  upon  the  piazzas  of  the  house  and  the 
hospital,  and  upon  the  coffee-driers  that  stretched 
behind  the  latter  building.  She  therefore  made 
her  way  out  on  the  other  side,  and,  skirting  the 
edge  of  the  plantation,  penetrated  the  distant 
squares  to  the  hollow  tree.  Many  times  she 
stood  still  and  held  her  breath,  but  at  last  she 
reached  the  spot,  and  tapped  lightly  upon  the  tree. 
There  was  no  answer,  but  the  next  moment  Pedro 


PEDRO  AND   DOLORES.  24! 

emerged  from  a  coffee  square  and  stood  before 
her.  He  was  as  much  terrified  as  gratified  to  see 
her,  and,  after  a  short,  convulsive  greeting,  he 
told  her  of  his  fears  lest  any  attempt  at  escape 
should  betray  him,  and  of  all  he  had  suffered 
since  he  had  parted  from  her  at  the  sale  in 
Havana.  She  told  him  of  Urbano  and  of  his  kind 
ness,  and  asked  him  if  she  might  tell  him  where 
he  was.  He  consented,  and  they  then  parted, 
after  another  wild  embrace,  both  trembling  for 
the  possible  consequences  of  this  meeting.  But 
Dolores  gained  her  cabin  in  safety,  and  soon  re 
moved  all  vestiges  of  her  means  of  escape  from  it. 
When  Urbano  heard  the  story  of  the  hidden  man 
from  Dolores,  his  terror  knew  no  bounds.  He  had 
long  since  reconciled  himself  to  a  fate  he  found 
inevitable,  and  which  he  had  ameliorated  by  ren 
dering  himself  worthy  of  offices  of  trust.  But  the 
thought  of  the  youthful  chief  of  his  tribe  in  such 
danger  restored  fire  and  vigor  to  his  old  limbs, 
and  he  revolved  every  possible  means  of  aiding  his 
escape,  even  if  he  must  accompany  him  in  flight. 
He  restrained  Dolores'  impatience  as  well  as  he 
could,  but  she  repeated  her  nightly  visits  many 
times,  and  gradually  a  plan  had  been  arranged  by 
which  the  three  should  escape  to  the  mountains. 
Urbano  had  been  into  the  region  with  his  master, 
and  knew  the  way.  He  had  entire  command  of 
the  horses,  and  only  awaited  some  favorable  oppor 
tunity  to  give  a  preconcerted  signal  to  Dolores  and 


242  PEDRO   AND   DOLORES. 

Pedro.  The  mountains  once  gained,  they  were 
safe.  He  knew  the  dangers,  but  had  resolved  to 
brave  them. 

On  the  night  of  Pedro's  capture,  Dolores  rent 
the  air  with  wild  shrieks  of  distress.  Urbano 
knew  that  it  was  not  the  terrors  of  the  storm  that 
brought  on  the  "  fits,"  as  the  negroes  called  them> 
and  when  he  was  called  the  next  morning  to  take 
the  overseer's  place,  and  was  obliged  to  repeat 
Dolores'  name  at  the  roll-call,  it  was  with  difficulty 
he  could  utter  the  word.  But  the  report  of  "'sick  " 
was  accompanied  by  no  evidence  of  her  having 
revealed  her  knowledge  of  Pedro,  and  he  simply 
omitted  any  directions  for  her  removal  to  the  hos 
pital,  glad  to  have  her  left  to  the  solitude  of  her 
own  cabin,  where  he  meant  to  visit  her  on  his  re 
turn  from  the  field. 

Luckily,  mumma  Camilla  was  so  aristocratically 
inclined  that  she  knew  little  of  the  events  in  the 
cabins  of  the  field  hands,  unless  something  excited 
her  curiosity.  But  Urbano  had  begged  Pazienza, 
the  wife  of  Jacobo,  to  look  in  upon  Dolores,  know 
ing  that  she  could  not  understand  any  words  that 
might  fall  from  her,  and  Pazienza  carried  the  case 
to  her  kind  mistress,  who  had  been  to  see  the 
poor  girl  and  sent  her  food  from  her  own  table,  as 
she  was  accustomed  to  do  to  the  inmates  at  the 
hospital.  Urbano  had  suggested  that  she  should 
not  be  removed  there,  while  Pedro  filled  the  air 
with  his  groans.  When  Helen  heard  of  her  ill- 


PEDRO  AND   DOLORES.  243 

ness,  she  begged  Isabella  to  let  her  accompany 
her,  and  as  she  stood  over  the  poor  girl,  she 
opened  her  eyes  and  fixed  them  upon  her.  The 
moment  she  had  done  so,  a  piercing  shriek  burst 
from  her,  which  startled  Helen  almost  from  her 
self-control,  for  had  she  not  heard  that  sound 
before  ?  Another  glance,  and  she  was  sure  the 
truth  had  flashed  upon  her.  This  was  the  Dolores 
she  had  seen  married,  and  might  not  the  wounded 
man  be  Pedro  ?  Her  first  impulse  was  to  recog 
nize  her  and  communicate  her  suspicions  to 
Isabella,  but  she  hesitated,  not  knowing  whether 
it  would  be  for  Dolores  benefit  or  not.  As  she 
stepped  aside  from  the  board  that  served  Dolores 
for  a  bedstead,  her  foot  plunged  into  a  soft  hole  in 
the  earth. 

"  The  rain,  lady,  the  rain,"  said  Urbano,  who 
caught  her  as  she  was  falling. 

"  The  people  often  burrow  into  the  ground  to 
make  sleeping  places  for  themselves,"  said  Isa 
bella.  "  I  suppose  this  poor  creature  did  so." 

"It  is  a  softer  bed  than  a  board,"  thought 
Helen. 

This  was  only  her  second  visit  to  a  negro  cabin. 

"  Urbano  is  an  excellent  nurse,  and  understands 
this  poor  girl,"  said  Isabella.  "  We  can  do  nothing 
better  for  her  than  to  leave  her  with  him  and  Pazi- 
enza.  She  is  in  a  burning  fever,  and  seems  to 
take  no  comfort  in  seeing  me,  as  many  of  them  do. 
I  sometimes  think  they  like  to  be  ill,  but  it  is  no 


244  PEDRO   AND   DOLORES. 

matter  of  choice  with  this  one.  What  do  you 
think  of  her  to-night,  Urbano  ?  will  she  die  ?  " 

Urbano  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  If  she's  not 
better  soon,  my  lady.  She  has  much  fever  —  much 
strength  —  sometimes  she  runs  out." 

"  Why  do  not  you  put  her  in  the  hospital  ? " 

"  Man  makes  too  much  noise  there  —  could  not 
sleep." 

"  Let  her  go  out  into  the  shade  if  she  wishes  to  ; 
it  is  better  than  to  be  shut  up  here,"  said  Isabella, 
and,  with  this  advice,  the  two  ladies  walked  sadly 
away,  but  Helen  often  went  over  to  inquire  for 
Dolores,  and  to  take  her  an  orange  or  some  little 
tidbit.  The  convulsions  returned  frequently,  and 
then  would  follow  an  interval  of  entire  prostra 
tion. 

Helen  was  resolved  to  visit  the  hospital  after 
the  "justicia"  left,  and  satisfy  herself  upon  the 
point  of  Pedro's  identity,  for  she  thought  she 
should  know  him.  She  remembered  the  meeting 
with  Dolores  on  the  day  of  her  first  drive  with 
Isabella,  and  also  her  momentary  thought  of  the 
resemblance,  which  she  now  wondered  she  should 
have  forgotten,  but  it  had  not  occurred  to  her  at 
the  time  that  Dolores  was  just  as  likely  to  be  sent 
to  La  Consolacion  as  elsewhere.  She  did  not 
lose  sight  of  her  purpose,  and  it  was  not  long 
before  the  desired  opportunity  offered. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

DONA   JOSEFA. 

"  WHO  is  Dona  Josefa,  to  whom  Don  Fernando 

referred  ?  "  Miss  Wentworth  asked  one  day. 

"  That  involves  a  sad  story,  that  will  shock 
you  almost  as  much  as  the  knowledge  of  our 
peculiar  institution,"  replied  the  Marchioness. 
"These  young  men  are  the  sons  of  the  most 
influential  man  in  the  island  ;  the  one  who  has 
most  to  do  with  the  Governor-General,  and  with 
out  whose  counsels  I  suppose  nothing  is  deter 
mined  upon.  He  is  a  Marquis  of  S.,  a  man  of 
great  legal  acumen,  but  a  proud  Castilian  noble 
who  would  on  no  account  demean  himself  to  prac 
tise  law,  but  is  brains  to  several  lawyers,  who  pay 
him  largely  for  his  opinions.  He  has  ten  children 
by  his  legal  wife,  who  is  now  dead,  but  with  whom 
he  did  not  live  for  many  years  previous.  They 
quarrelled,  but  they  lived  in  the  same  house,  the 
husband  in  one  part,  the  wife  in  another,  and  had 
not  met  for  many  years,  but  the  children  passed 
to  and  fro  at  will.  His  two  daughters  are  well 
married,  and  are  fine  women.  Whatever  these 
two  ladies  do  is  thought  to  be  the  right  thing. 

245 


246  DONA  JOSEFA. 

They  are  really  leaders  of  society.  Their  five 
brothers  are  younger  than  themselves,  and  I  know 
of  no  young  men  who  bear  such  unspotted  reputa 
tions.  I  have  often  thought  in  their  case  of  the 
wonderful  compensations  we  sometimes  see  in  life. 
They  have  suffered  pain  and  mortification  for  their 
father's  character,  and  their  mother,  who  was  de 
serted  by  him,  was  a  very  noble  woman,  and  her 
memory  is  held  in  great  reverence  by  them.  She 
lived  on  very  small  means,  and  since  his  death 
they  have  had  to  practise  great  economies,  and 
have  passed  much  time  on  the  plantation  near  us, 
which  belonged  to  their  mother,  and  is  their 
only  inheritance.  Since  the  husband  and  wife 
parted,  he  has  been  devoted  to  this  Dona  Josefa, 
who  is  a  woman  of  fine  education,  but  has  a  taint 
of  negro  blood  in  her,  which  is  sufficient  obstacle 
to  his  marrying  her  legally  as  well  as  socially, 
but  he  built  her  a  house  and  lived  openly  with 
her,  and  has  had  ten  more  children,  of  whom  she 
is  the  mother.  One  of  these  is  a  beautiful  daugh 
ter,  and  such  is  his  social  position  that  he  could 
marry  her  to  any  man  in  the  island,  but  his  death 
wholly  alters  their  position.  They  are  no  longer 
eligible  to  society.  Such  families  as  these  are 
called  "  Holy  Families "  by  a  strange  sarcasm. 
But  the  strangest  thing  is  that  these  young  men 
live  on  the  plantation  with  Dona  Josefa,  and  thus 
condone  the  whole  situation.  The  daughters 
never  come,  and  the  Holy  Family  lives  in  a 


DONA  fOSEFA.  247 

different  set  from  the  one  in  which  these  young 
men  move.  This  is  the  first  time  I  have  ever 
heard  Dona  Josefa  alluded  to  by  them.  The 
father  died  a  few  months  ago,  and  since  that 
event  the  sons  have  had  to  do  something  for  their 
own  support,  and  are  obliged  to  live  outside  the 
walls  of  Havana,  instead  of  in  the  city,  which  is  a 
great  mortification,  as  the  walls  are  locked  at  a 
certain  hour,  which  obliges  them  to  leave  company 
or  the  opera  earlier  than  their  city  friends  do. 
Now  their  father  is  dead,  his  vices  are  freely 
spoken  of,  though  never  noticed  in  his  life.  He 
was  poor ;  the  salary  his  lawyers  paid  him  no 
longer  continues,  and  Dona  Josefa  had  to  sell  the 
beautiful  house  he  built  for  her,  and  come  into 
the  country  to  live.  She  and  her  sister,  another 
capable  and  well  educated  woman,  have  educated 
her  family  rather  above  the  average  of  Cuban 
society. 

"  There  is  something  revolting  to  me  in  the 
whole  thing  and  I  have  never  visited  them.  Yet 
the  Marquis  visited  my  husband." 

"What    strange    customs!"    exclaimed   Helen. 

"  Yes  —  and  I  never  heard  one  of  the  young 
men  speak  of  her  before.  It  makes  me  feel  that 
she  must  have  some  claims  to  respect,  after  all. 
A  wholly  unprincipled  or  unfeeling  woman  would 
not  show  sympathy  with  slaves,  for  fear  of  being 
more  closely  identified  with  them.  The  colored 
woman  whom  you  have  seen,  and  who  inherited  all 


248  DONA  JOSEFA. 

her  owner's  wealth,  is  not  a  kind  mistress  to  her 
slaves,  if  I  am  rightly  informed." 

"  What  a  chaos  all  these  things  make  in  so 
ciety!"  exclaimed  Miss  Wentworth.  "I  do  not 
wonder  you  live  so  much  apart  from  it  all." 

"  Yes.  I  have  always  made  the  most  of  my  ex 
planation  that  I  attend  personally  to  the  educa 
tion  of  my  children,  and  I  know  one  other  mother 
who  does  the  same,  whom  I  should  like  to  have 
you  know,  but  she  lives  so  far  from  here  that  I 
rarely  see  her." 

"Are  none-  of  these  brothers  married?"  asked 
Helen. 

"  No  ;  they  are  as  proud  as  they  are  poor.  I  am 
sure  you  will  appreciate  one  trait  in  these  young 
men.  They  know  the  history  of  Juanita,  and 
yet  they  never  have  spoken  to  her,  or  given  me 
the  least  uneasiness  about  her.  They  evidently 
feel  that  she  is  to  be  guarded,  and  though  they  ad 
mire  her  talents  they  treat  her  with  entire  respect, 
never  praising  or  noticing  her.  They  are  the  only 
men  she  is  not  afraid  of.  She  knows  they  were 
very  friendly  to  her  brother,  and  have  befriended 
him  since  he  left  us,  but  they  leave  her  entirely  to 
her  reserve." 

"  The  noble  life  you  lead,  dear  Isabella,  will  have 
its  reward  in  your  children  ;  but  it  is  sad  to  have 
them  pass  their  lives  here." 

"Yes;  and  I  do  not  mean  that  my  sons  shall  do 
it,  even  if  I  have  to  part  with  them,  but  I  must 


DONA  JOSE  FA.  249 

not  think  too  much  of  that,  till  time  makes  it  in 
evitable.  Meantime,  I  try  not  to  forget  that  it  is 
all  God's  world." 

Company  interrupted  them,  and  Helen  had  be 
gun  to  feel  that  the  distraction  this  afforded 
was  necessary  to  her  friend  sometimes,  for  her 
trials  were  thickening  around  her  with  the  growth 
of  her  children,  and  strength  to  bear  them  might 
fail. 

As  Helen  pondered  upon  this  domestic  history, 
she  asked  herself  if  it  was  possible  for  these 
young  men  to  live  on  such  an  intimate  footing 
with  their  father's  paramour  without  being  de 
moralized  by  it.  She  evidently  had  some  claims 
to  respect ;  but,  when  the  first  principle  of  family 
life  was  thus  openly  violated,  on  what  could  they 
base  morality  ?  They  had  kindly  feelings  towards 
their  slaves,  but  no  convictions  about  human 
rights  that  suggested  to  them  to  turn  their  backs 
upon  it,  and  see  if  the  world  did  not  offer  some 
thing  better.  They  had  some  education,  but 
literature  did  not  seem  to  interest  them,  as  it  did 
Ludovico,  or  to  offer  them  any  resource  for  the 
failure  of  their  domestic  life.  How  far  did  they 
criticise  their  father,  she  wondered.  Probably 
not  much  ;  though  there  was  something  in  Don 
Fernando's  manner  that  made  her  feel  that  he 
was  nt)t  happy.  She  could  only  hope  he  was  not, 
for  she  saw  no  way  out  of  the  dilemma  they  were 
in  except  to  suffer,  and  custom  lays  such  a  weight 


250  DONA  JOSE  FA. 

upon  the  soul  that  man  turns  away  from  suffer 
ing  that  does  interfere  with  personal  comfort. 
Upon  the  whole,  her  reflections  left  her  content 
that  her  friend  was  not  as  happy  as  she  deserved 
to  be,  and  her  children  bade  fair  to  be  still  less  so, 
for  she  saw  in  the  near  future  that  Isabella  could 
not  live  long. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

LA    MODESTIA. 

WHEN  Carolina  saw  the  freedom  of  life  which 
a  married  woman  enjoys  in  Cuban  society,  she 
longed  for  the  day  when  she  might  throw  off  the 
restraints  of  girlhood,  so  rigidly  enforced  by  her 
friends.  The  general  elevation  of  society  in  the 
northern  and  middle  states  of  America,  which 
allows  great  freedom  to  young  people,  can  only  be 
rightly  estimated  when  compared  with  an  opposite 
state  of  things,  where  public  morals  are  so  cor 
rupt  that  no  one  can  be  trusted. 

Carolina  was  now  anxious  to  visit  her  paternal 
estate,  which  was  not  far  distant,  and  the  magnifi 
cent  domain  made  her  heart  swell  with  pride  and 
ambition.  The  solid  weather  of  the  season  —  if 
one  may  so  express  the  nature  of  a  climate  where 
the  season  determines  the  weather,  as  in  the 
tropics  —  makes  an  ordinary  expedition  a  fiesta, 
and  the  whole  family  accompanied  Carolina  in  her 
visit  to  La  Modestia. 

During  her  minority,  the  plantation  had  been 
left  in  the  care  of  an  elderly  French  gentleman, 
who  was  a -naturalist  and  nothing  but  a  naturalist. 
M.  Larimon,  doubtless,  had  his  reasons  for  banish- 

251 


252  LA    MODEST! A. 

ing  himself  from  society,  and  the  custom,  prevail 
ing  in  that  region,  of  not  prying  into  personal 
affairs,  shielded  him  from  idle  curiosity. 

Carolina  found  every  apartment  converted  into 
a  menagerie,  except  the  old  gentleman's  bedroom  ; 
and  there  he  not  only  slept  but  ate,  when  he  could 
not  do  the  latter  outside  of  the  house,  for  want  of 
room  elsewhere.  In  the  grand  salon  were  pens 
for  gazelles,  cages  for  birds,  parrots,  rabbits,  and 
other  small  game.  Shelves  laden  with  alcoholic 
specimens  were  hung  in  all  the  bedrooms.  Glass 
cases  contained  collections  of  insects.  Minerals 
were  piled  in  corners.  Shells  were  stacked  on 
marble-topped  tables. 

The  long  white  hair  of  the  serene  philosopher 
floated  over  his  shoulders,  and  his  mild  blue  eyes 
surveyed  the  party  that  suddenly  descended  upon 
him,  as  if  they  were  only  specimens  of  another 
genus  of  animals. 

Not  so  old  Celia,  the  housekeeper.  She  well 
remembered  the  little  nina,  who  was  carried  to 
the  States  after  the  death  of  her  parents,  and  she 
wept  and  laughed  alternately  to  see  her  again,  a 
beautiful  lady. 

And  where  could  she  spread  the  dinner,  or  ask 
the  company  to  sit  down  ?  She  brought  chairs  to 
the  piazza.,  for  there  was  positively  no  other  place. 
She  lifted  the  little  girls,  who  enchanted  her,  into 
the  low  hammock  of  M.  Larimon,  that  swung  in 
the  gallery.  She  brought  fruits,  oranges,  can 


LA    MODEST! A.  253 

sucre.  And  when  she  had  blessed  and  seated  and 
oranged  and  sugared  the  party,  which  latter  she 
did  in  tiny  cups  and  saucers  filled  with  the  hot 
juice  from  the  boiling  sugar-vats  —  for  this  was  a 
sugar  plantation  —  she  begged  the  keys  of  M. 
Larimon,  and  opened  chests  that  were  only 
opened  now  to  have  their  contents  aired  and 
sweetened,  and  saved  from  cockroaches'  nests. 
From  these  she  drew  the  finest  and  most  highly 
ornamented  napery,  and  spread  them  upon  a 
table,  which  she  drew  upon  the  piazza  from  some 
hidden  recess.  In  vain  the  Marchioness  told  her 
they  needed  no  dinner  or  lunch,  for  they  were  not 
far  from  home,  and  she  did  not  wish  to  disturb  M. 
Larimon  with  entertaining  guests  elaborately  ;  but 
Celia  remembered  that  she  reigned  triumphant  in 
that  department,  and,  while  the  children  amused 
themselves  with  the  animals  and  other  curiosities, 
chickens  were  killed,  eggs  were  fried,  plantains, 
yams,  and  tomatoes  were  prepared,  fruits  were 
gathered,  and,  amid  volleys  of  apologies,  the  party 
were  at  last  called  to  partake  of  a  delicious  but 
impromptu  dinner,  which  Celia  deprecatingly 
called  a  "little  lunch." 

M.  Larimon  entertained  his  guests  with  the 
utmost  nonchalance.  He  was  too  much  a  man 
of  the  world  to  show  that  he  was  disconcerted, 
though  he  was  caught  in  undress  ;  but,  in  truth, 
he  would  have  been  glad  to  have  known  be 
forehand  that  he  was  to  have  so  distinguished  a 


254  LA    MODEST/ A. 

visitor,  and  so  well  attended.  He  might  at  least 
have  cleared  the  grand  salon,  and  would  perhaps 
have  retired  to  his  own  pavilion,  on  the  other  side 
of  the  basscy  or  square  in  which  the  house  stood  ; 
but  that  had  been  filled  with  his  collections  long 
ago,  and,  like  a  true  philosopher,  he  thought  it 
just  as  well  to  make  good  use  while  he  might  of 
the  ample  apartments  of  the  grand  mansion. 

He  did  not  even  know  Carolina  was  expected 
home. 

Ludovico  was  a  great  favorite  of  M.  Lari- 
mon.  It  was  Ludovico  who  had  planned  the  sur 
prise  for  him,  for  he  did  not  wish  to  disturb  the 
arrangements  of  the  good  old  man.  Ludovico 
knew  every  item  in  Monsieur's  collections,  and 
was  the  solitary  individual  who  had  the  freedom  of 
La  Modestia.  Of  late,  since  Manuel  had  learned 
to  ride  on  his  pony,  he  had  sometimes  accom 
panied  Ludovico,  and  been  introduced  to  the 
manifold  treasures  of  the  place  ;  and  it  was  now 
his  delight  to  show  them  to  Carlito  and  his  little 
sisters,  for  it  was  their  first  visit. 

A  little  whitewash  and  paint,  great  factors  in 
a  Cuban  house,  would  soon  make  all  right  again. 
Celia  had  taken  good  care  of  the  nice  furniture, 
which  was  stowed  away  in  various  places.  What 
would  she  have  done  with  her  otherwise  useless 
life,  if  she  had  not  had  this  to  do  for  the  young 
heiress,  who  would  come  home  at  some  future 
day?  She  was  much  disappointed  to  find  that 


LA   MODESTIA.  255 

Carolina  had  forgotten  her  and  her  tender  nursing, 
and  the  old  home,  and  could  remember  nothing 
distinctly  that  preceded  her  life  in  the  States. 
Celia  had  lavished  all  her  movable  affections 
upon  M.  Larimon,  who  had  been  a  kind  master 
to  her,  if  not  to  all  "the  people."  He  had  simply 
neglected  them,  except  to  ride  round  every  day 
with  the  negro  driver,  who  was  a  capable  assis 
tant  and  understood  the  making  of  sugar,  which 
M.  Larimon  did  not  ;  so  that,  after  a  general  in 
spection,  he  would  retire  to  his  beasts,  birds, 
insects,  fishes,  and  books. 

Carolina,  who  did  not  care  for  the  curiosities, 
wished  to  see  the  process  of  sugar-making.  The 
season  for  the  work  was  at  its  height,  and,  leaving 
the  children  under  the  care  of  Celia,  the  party  as 
cended  the  steps  of  the  sugar-house  and  saw  its  deep 
vats,  its  huge  cylinders  for  pressing  out  the  juice 
of  the  cane,  the  roaring  fires  beneath,  into  which 
whole  saplings  were  thrust  at  once,  the  branches 
only  being  trimmed  so  far  as  to  allow  them  to  be 
pushed  into  the  mammoth  ovens. 

The  cylinders  were  kept  in  motion  day  and 
night  by  oxen  who  were  driven  in  an  eternal 
round  by  —  could  it  be?  —  by  little  children  from 
four  to  six  years  of  age,  who  excited  the  animals 
by  a  sustained,  monotonous  cry,  in  which  the 
wearied  little  voices  struck  mournfully  on  the 
ear.  A  driver  stood  over  them,  and  whenever  a 
little  voice  relaxed  its  song,  and  the  ox  stopped  in 


Ou  LA    MODES  Tf A. 

consequence,  his  lash  reminded  them  of  their 
duty. 

It  was  a  sickening  sight.  Helen's  vision  was 
dimmed  for  a  moment,  not  by  tears,  but  by  a  sud 
den  blindness  as  the  blood  rushed  to  her  brain  at 
the  sight  of  this  new  atrocity. 

"  How  cruel !  horrible !  "  exclaimed  the  Mar 
chioness,  in  French.  "Why  is  this,  M.  Larimon? 
It  is  the  first  time  I  ever  saw  children  at  this 
work.  How  can  you  allow  it  ?  " 

"  The  cholera  killed  so  many  of  the  people  last 
year,  madame,  that  there  are  not  enough  to  keep 
the  mills  in  motion  unless  they  are  so  relieved." 

"But  does  my  husband  know  of  this?"  she 
asked. 

'•  Yes,  madame  ;  it  is  done  upon  all  the  sugar 
estates  this  year.  Last  year's  losses  were  very 
great,  and  the  gangs  have  not  yet  been  replen 
ished." 

"But  are  there  not  older  children  than  these 
babes,  who  could  be  used  ?  " 

"  Many  have  died  this  season,  madame,"  was 
his  reply. 

Carolina  heard  this  conversation,  and  knew  that 
this  sugar  estate  supplied  the  wealth  that  she  en 
joyed,  but  she  made  no  remark. 

They  passed  into  the  next  department,  where 
the  negroes  were  stirring  the  boiling  caldrons 
with  mammoth  spoons.  The  clay  floors  were  hot 
to  the  feet.  The  naked  forms  of  the  workmen 


LA   MODESTIA.  257 

dripped  with  perspiration.  They  looked  gaunt 
and  thin. 

"They  look  as  if  they  were  hungry,"  exclaimed 
Ludovico. 

"  The  supplies  of  corn  have  not  been  as  good  as 
usual  this  year,  and  there  have  not  been  enough 
hands  to  plant  rice,"  said  M.  Larimon,  "but  at 
this  season  they  are  nourished  by  the  sugar-cane, 
of  which  they  eat  all  they  want." 

"We  do  not  care  to  go  any  farther,"  said  the 
Marchioness.  "  Let  us  go  into  the  air." 

Helen  cast  one  more  look  at  the  wretched  crea 
tures  that  rolled  their  eyes  up  at  the  party.  They 
looked  more  like  demons  than  like  human  beings. 

Had  the  fair  vision  that  looked  clown  upon  them 
come  as  their  redeeming  angel  ?  Alas  !  they  had 
never  yet  seen  any  earthly  representative  of  the 
Holy  Virgin  to  whom  the  white  man  prayed. 

From  this  hell  they  passed  into  the  bland  and 
perfumed  air  of  the  gardens,  where  fruits  and 
flowers  of  all  kinds  abounded  for  the  white  man. 

M.  Larimon  was  a  horticulturist  as  well  as  a 
zoologist.  He  found  no  difficulty  in  keeping  his 
grounds  in  order,  though  the  gangs  had  been 
thinned  by  the  cholera. 

"  If  it  was  my  plantation,  the  mills  should  not 
be  kept  going  at  night,"  said  Ludovico. 

"  That  would  make  a  great  difference  in  the  in 
come,"  said  M.  Larimon ;  "  the  fires  are  not 
allowed  to  go  out  during  the  sugar-making 
season." 


258  LA    MODES 77 A. 

Carolina  made  no  comment  upon  this,  either. 
Could  she  have  been  unconscious  that  a  word 
from  her  might  have  stopped  all  this  cruelty  ? 

The  Marchioness  listened  in  vain  for  a  word  of 
feeling  from  that  frivolous  heart. 

With  pride  M.  Larimon  now  introduced  the 
ladies  into  a  green  labyrinth  of  his  own  devising, 
and  proposed  that  each  one  of  the  party,  entering 
a  separate  alley  whose  shrubbery  was  too  high 
and  thick  for  any  intercommunication  with  other 
paths,  should  meet  together  in  a  tall  summer- 
house,  whose  minaret  could  just  be  perceived  in 
the  centre.  Soon  each  one  was  at  a  loss,  and  no 
one  could  emerge  from  the  bewildering  mazes,  till 
M.  Larimon  stood  upon  the  tower  and  directed 
the  lost  wanderers  whether  to  turn  to  the  right 
hand  or  the  left.  The  whole  party  at  last  gained 
the  tower,  and  behold  !  not  far  distant  the  glorious 
sea. 

Helen  could  have  knelt  in  worship  to  it,  for  was 
it  not  the  only  path  by  which  she  could  regain  the 
lost  heaven  of  home,  —  a  home  which  now  seemed 
to  her  the  very  vestibule  of  heaven.  Carolina  was 
charmed,  for  would  she  not  have  a  yacht  and 
sometimes  sail  upon  the  silver  sea  ! 

M.  Larimon  led  them  out  of  the  "  Labyrinth'of 
Ariadne,"  as  he  had  named  it,  and  for  many  hours 
they  wandered  through  his  parterres  into  which 
he  had  gathered  all  the  plants  of  the  West  Indian 
islands.  One  pathway  led  to  the  "silver  sea." 


LA    MODESTIA. 


that  bounded  the  plantation  on  one  side.  Caro 
lina's  delight  was  not  to  be  expressed  in  words. 
She  shouted  her  girlish  transports,  and  chased 
Ludovico  over  the  shining  beach,  and  gathered 
tropical  shells  and  sea-weeds  like  the  child  that 
she  was. 

Helen  loved  the  sea,  but  the  childish  voices  that 
sounded  across  the  cane-fields  from  the  pandemo 
nium  of  the  sugar-house  drowned  to  her  ear  the 
gentle  plashing  of  the  waters  on  the  beach,  and 
she  only  wondered  that  the  caleseros,  who  sat 
upon  the  horses  waiting  to  take  them  home,  could 
be  so  amused  by  the  thoughtless  girl  as  their  broad 
smiles  testified. 

"  What  a  splendid  home  !  What  a  good  steward 
you  have  been,  M.  Larimon  !  "  Carolina  exclaimed, 
as  he  handed  her  into  the  volante.  "  I  hope  you 
will  live  with  me  when  I  come,  and  you  shall  have 
a  house  for  all  your  pets.  I  will  draw  the  plan  of 
it  myself." 

The  tropical  sun  lighted  up  the  sea  and  the 
heavens  with  indescribable  glory  as  they  drove 
homeward,  bathing  the  landscape  in  celestial,  rosy 
light,  kindling  the  palm  shafts,  penetrating  even 
the  gloomy  arches  of  the  bamboo  avenues,  and 
touching  every  coffee-berry  with  such  brilliancy 
that  each  one  looked  like  a  living  carbuncle.  On 
this  moonless  evening,  without  the  interval  of  a 
perceptible  twilight,  all  this  changed  into  a  dark 
ness  that  would  have  been  perceptible  had  not  the 


260  I*  A    MODESTIA. 

glorious,  starry  arch  above  them  reminded  them  of 
its  great  author.  The  southern  cross  was  a  new 
object  of  interest  to  Helen.  It  rested  nearly  on 
the  horizon.  The  little  girls  would  have  gone  to 
sleep  if  they  had  been  permitted,  but  the  evening 
dews  are  heavy,  and  that  is  not  allowed. 

"  The  gentle  but  heartless  naturalist !  The 
sum  of  all  villanies "  —  these  were  Helen's 
thoughts.  "  But  the  stars  were  set  by  God's  own 
hand." 

"  Vengeance  is  mine,"  saith  the  Lord. 

"  He  will  surely  take  it,"  was  her  mental  ejacu 
lation. 

Does  he  not  take  it  every  day  and  every  hour 
that  we  desecrate  the  nature  he  has  implanted  in 
us,  negatively  if  not  positively  ?  God's  negations 
are  his  severest  punishments,  for  in  them  souls 
may  sleep  the  sleep  of  death  till  roused  by  the 
vision  all  divine  with  which  they  must  compare 
themselves. 

There  will  be  a  waking,  and  God's  light  will 
penetrate  every  dark  shadow,  but  not  till  every 
crime  committed  on  the  earth's  surface  has  been 
expiated.  That  is  what  forgiveness  means.  Its 
popular  meaning  hides  the  true  one,  and  men 
think  they  can  lie  clown  at  last  and  find  themselves 
forgiven  without  expiation.  What  a  waking  it 
will  be  when  the  truth  dawns  upon  us,  let  it  be  in 
what  world  it  may  ! 

Carolina  was  now   ready  to  throw  herself  away 


LA   MODESTIA.  26 1 

upon  the  first  suitor  who  should  admire  her  or  her 
inheritance  and  give  her  liberty  !  There  were 
plenty  of  such  admirers.  But  it  was  the  duty  of 
her  uncle  to  see  that  she  was  not  sacrificed  to  a 
gambler  or  an  adventurer,  and  why  not  secure  to 
his  own  son  such  worldly  possessions,  when  his 
heart  was  all  ready  to  give  itself  into  the  keeping 
of  his  cousin  ?  He  did  not  feel  "  justified,"  as  the 
phrase  is,  in  withholding  his  consent  to  his  son's 
imperative  pleadings,  though  he  regretted  the 
relinquishment  of  all  his  plans  for  the  completion 
of  his  education  ;  but  Ludovico  promised  to  visit 
France  after  his  marriage,  accompanied  by  his 
wife  —  if  such  she  would  consent  to  be — -and  it 
was  not  long  before  the  prize  was  sought  and  won, 
there  being  very  little  heart  in  the  matter  on  Car 
olina's  part ;  but  there  was  not  a  handsomer  cav 
alier  than  her  cousin,  who  had  grown  from  a  boy 
to  a  man  in  the  few  last  weeks,  and  she  could  not 
hope  to  find  one  more  devoted  to  her  every  whim 
and  wish. 

After  the  betrothal,  which  carried  sorrow  to  the 
loving  heart  of  the  mother,  it  required  no  little 
remonstrance  to  teach  Carolina  the  proper  eti 
quette  to  be  observed  by  a  fiancee.  She  must  no 
longer  dance  with  any  gentleman  but  her  accepted 
lover,  and  in  a  thousand  ways  she  felt  herself  fet 
tered  and  annoyed.  But  her  uncle  was  very  per 
emptory.  Isabella  saw  too  well  that  after  mar 
riage  she  would  fall  into  all  the  dangers  of  that 


262  F.A    MODI'.STIA. 

corrupt  society,  and  she  hoped  Ludovico's  eyes 
might  still  be  opened ;  but  Helen  saw  more 
clearly  that  the  spell  was  riveted  by  his  inexpe 
rience  and  his  generous  love.  lie  was  perfectly 
unsophisticated,  and  Carolina  was  not.  Her 
caprices,  which  others  saw  arose  from  selfishness, 
were  all  graces  in  his  eyes,  and  his  devotion  was 
unwearied. 

The  fame  of  the  pretty  Americana  and  the  be 
trothal  spread  rapidly  and  brought  many  visitors. 
Young  girls  were  curious  to  see  her  beauty  (in 
deed,  a  stranger  in  that  isolated  society  is  con 
sidered  a  public  prize),  also  to  be  numbered  among 
her  acquaintances,  for  she  was  a  wealthy  heiress 
soon  to  be  established  in  their  neighborhood,  and 
unnumbered  fiestas  were  looked  forward  to. 
Mothers  came  to  accompany  their  daughters,  and 
Spanish  cavaliers  found  her  American  manners 
and  gay  spirits  a  source  of  endless  amusement. 
The  months  of  the  dry  season  were  quickly  pass 
ing,  and  Carolina  had  become  the  star  of  the  plan 
tations,  and  had  transformed  the  society  around 
her  in  many  ways.  She  played  and  sang  well, 
and,  even  among  the  musical  Spaniards,  was  an 
admired  performer,  especially  by  her  Italian 
singing. 

The  Marchioness  tried  to  love  Carolina,  and  to 
find  in  her  what  she  craved  for  the  wife  of  her 
son  ;  but  in  vain.  And  Ludovico  seemed  to  be  lost 
to  his  mother.  Helen  looked  on  with  a  sad  heart. 


LA   MODESTIA.  263 

She  saw  no  evidence  of  character  in  Carolina  that 
would  finish  the  good  work  that  had  begun  in 
Ludovico.  On  the  contrary,  he  too  had  become 
selfish  for  his  idol,  and  offered  no  defence  for  his 
old  and  tried  playmate  against  Carolina's  caprices, 
for  she  took  pleasure  in  tyrannizing  over  Juanita. 
Silently  Juanita  did  her  bidding,  but  Helen  could 
see  a  growing  aversion  to  her  new  tyrant.  Caro 
lina's  tyranny  consisted  in  regardlessness  of  her 
fatigue  or  her  feelings,  and  in  unreasonable  requi 
sitions  of  all  kinds.  She  took  up  easily  her  latent 
character  of  slave-holder,  taking  slavery  as  a 
matter  of  course,  and  proud  of  her  own  human 
possessions,  over  whom  she  was  soon  to  preside. 

Madame  Cazneau,  delighted  to  leave  her  charge 
with  such  good  prospects,  lingered  longer  than 
she  had  intended,  but  at  last  returned  to  her 
duties  at  home,  promising  Carolina  a  visit  when 
she  should  have  a  home  of  her  own.  Carolina  was 
rather  relieved  that  so  much  guardianship  had  de 
parted,  for  she  could  now  give  herself  up  more 
than  ever  to  the  novel  enjoyments  and  triumphs 
of  her  position. 

Ludovico  made  no  confidante  of  his  mother  of 
his  occasional  jealousies  and  heartaches.  His 
infatuation  was  so  great  that  he  rather  blamed 
himself  than  Carolina  if  any  clouds  came  between 
them,  and  attributed  to  her  want  of  knowledge  of 
the  world  many  departures  from  true  delicacy 
which  even  her  guarded  life  gave  opportunity  for. 


264  /..-/    MODESTIA. 

Among  all  the  cavaliers  who  visited  the  house, 
Don  Fernando  was  the  only  one  whom  he  liked  to 
see  approach  Carolina,  for  he  was  the  only  one  in 
whose  character  he  had  any  confidence,  and  there 
was  a  dignity  in  Don  Fernando's  manner  that 
even  Carolina  did  not  invade,  though  she  pre 
ferred  his  admiration  to  that  of  all  the  rest. 
Ludovico  did  not  acknowledge  to  himself  that  his 
hold  upon  her  was  slight,  for  it  would  have  pained 
him  too  much  to  dwell  upon  such  a  possibility,  but 
his  friends  saw  it,  and  no  one  more  clearly  than 
Juanita,  who  was  as  much  a  part  of  the  family 
circle  as  ever,  though  downcast  and  proudly 
humble  where  she  had  once  been  confiding.  The 
extreme  suffering  of  such  a  position  as  hers  was 
fully  appreciated  by  her  sensitive  nature,  but 
others  knew  it  only  by  her  varying  countenance, 
for  a  slave  has  no  freedom  of  speech,  no  right  to 
complain  except  to  an  equal,  and  she  had  no 
equals.  Other  favored  servants  of  her  class,  the 
personal  attendants  of  members  of  families,  and 
who  often  have  far  more  grace  and  attractiveness 
than  their  mistresses,  and  who  receive  and  min 
ister  to  guests,  and  take  pride  in  their  vocation, 
pass  their  lives  in  adorning  the  persons  of  their 
mistresses,  holding  their  fans,  picking  up  their 
handkerchiefs,  combing  their  hair,  and  waiting  up 
on  their  caprices  ;  but  she  had  been  the  indulged 
companion  of  intellectual  and  artistic  pleasures 
that  had  elevated  and  refined  her,  and  was  now 
for  the  first  time  treated  as  an  inferior. 


LA   MODESTIA.  265 

She  sat  apart  in  Mrs.  Warwick's  room,  the 
home  of  the  children,  where  the  family  passed 
much  time,  pursued  her  sewing  or  her  painting, 
ministered  to  the  children,  and  never  intruded 
the  services  she  was  always  ready  to  perform 
when  called  upon.  Hitherto  they  had  been  ren 
dered  for  love,  and  gladly.  Now  they  were  those 
of  the  slave.- 


CHAPTER    XX. 

THE    TURTLE    DOVES. 

ONE  day  there  came  a  messenger  from  La 
Modestia  with  a  present  to  the  little  girls  of  four 
beautiful  turtle  doves  which  they  had  much  ad 
mired. 

Tom,  the  cook,  was  summoned  to  make  them 
a  cage.  He  was  so  busy  with  company  that  he 
could  only  fit  up  a  large  basket  that  day,  but  in 
the  course  of  two  or  three  days  he  constructed  a 
very  elegant  one,  of  delicate  rattans,  open  work  on 
every  side,  and  with  slivers  of  corn-stalk  made  a 
nest  such  as  the  turtle  doves  make,  and  fastened 
it  securely,  as  he  thought.  The  cage  was  five  feet 
square,  and  stood  upon  the  piazza,  not  far  from 
Mrs.  Warwick's  room,  in  order  that  the  little  chil 
dren  should  enjoy  the  sight  of  the  beautiful  birds. 
Carolina  thought  at  first  that  she  must  always 
feed  them  herself,  but  this  grew  very  tedious,  and 
Manuel  was  only  too  glad  to  have  that  pleasure. 
It  was  several  days  before  a  sound  was  heard  from 
the  doves,  whose  mournful  cooing  is  very  musical. 
One  day  one  of  the  birds  approached  the  basket 
nest,  and  shook  it  with  her  beak.  It  did  not  prove 
satisfactory.  She  was  evidently  afraid  to  get  into 


THE    TURTLE   DOVES.  26/ 

it,  and  after  due  consultation  it  was  taken  down  to 
be  remodelled.  Some  of  the  corn  slivers  were 
left  upon  the  floor  of  the  cage,  and  before  the 
new  one  was  put  in  and  made  irreproachably 
secure,  which  Tom  was  very  careful  to  do,  Mrs. 
Turtle-dove  had  arranged  a  few  of  the  corn  shav 
ings  in  one  corner,  and  laid  a  beautiful  egg  upon 
it.  The  children  were  transported  with  this  pro 
ceeding,  but  the  egg  was  small  and  fell  through 
one  of  the  squares  which  the  corn  shavings  were 
too  frail  to  floor  securely.  The  father-dove  from 
his  perch  near  the  corner  where  the  egg  was 
deposited  had  done  melodious  homage  to  it,  thus 
proving  his  parentage,  by  the  most  musical  sounds 
in  his  beautiful  throat,  bowing  his  head  to  his 
pretty  mate,  inflating  his  breast  and  prolonging 
his  cooing  into  a  song  of  triumph.  The  acci 
dent  hushed  his  paean  in  a  moment.  But  the 
next  day  the  mother-dove  climbed  into  the  new 
nest,  and  laid  another  lovely  egg,  over  which  he 
rejoiced  in  the  most  exultant  manner.  The 
whole  family  gathered  round  it,  and  the  chil 
dren  were  made  happy  daily  by  the  devotion  of 
the  father-bird  who  brought  worms  and  grains  to 
the  sitting  mother,  and  who  would  bow  before 
her,  and  throw  back  his  beautiful  head  in  an 
ecstasy  of  joy.  Tom  soon  constructed  another 
nest  in  another  corner,  but  the  other  pair  of  doves 
took  no  notice  of  it.  So  the  watching  and  the 
feeding  went  on  till  the  bird  was  hatched  from 


268  THE    TURTLE   DOVES. 

the  egg,  and  then  followed  the  curious  spectacle 
of  the  mother-bird  first  taking  the  corn  into  her 
own  crop,  and  feeding  her  little  one  from  her  own 
bill.  The  baby-bird  grew  and  waxed  strong,  and 
when  it  could  fly  would  pursue  its  mother  round 
the  cage,  till  the  sympathies  of  the  beholder  were 
quite  excited  for  her,  for  she  evidently  did  not 
wish  to  feed  her  babe  as  often  as  it  desired  it,  and 
the  little  one  grew  to  be  quite  a  tyrant.  It  was 
decided  at  last  to  let  the  mother-bird  out  of  the 
cage  for  a  little  while  every  day  for  relief  and 
refreshment,  and  Manuel  learned  to  perform  the 
operation  very  skilfully,  though  it  was  rather  diffi 
cult  to  do  it  without  letting  out  the  young  bird 
too.  The  mother  always  came  back  after  amus 
ing  and  exercising  herself  on  the  rose-bushes  that 
grew  in  the  gallery,  but  did  not  seem  disposed  to 
forsake  the  neighborhood  of  her  little  one.  One 
day,  however,  she  flew  into  a  neighboring  tree, 
and  did  not  return  at  nightfall.  There  was  great 
lamentation  among  the  children  who  were  allowed 
to  sit  up  later  that  night,  awaiting  the  return  of 
the  mother-bird.  But  she  did  not  come,  and  the 
guard  that  always  watched  upon  the  piazza  was 
enjoined  to  open  the  door  of  the  cage  if  she  did 
return.  The  next  morning,  when  Manuel  stepped 
out  upon  the  piazza,  the  first  sight  that  caught  his 
eye  was  that  of  the  head  of  the  mother-bird,  which 
lay  upon  the  floor  of  the  piazza,  with  many  beau 
tiful  feathers  scattered  around.  A  cat  had  been 


THE    TURTLE   DOVES.  269 

prowling  round  the  house,  it  seemed,  all  day,  and, 
meeting  the  bird  on  its  return,  had  ruthlessly 
devoured  it.  Loud  and  long  were  the  cries  of  the 
children,  to  whom  the  birds  had  become  so  dear. 
The  little  one  soon  began  to  peck  at  the  corn,  and 
gradually  grew  and  flourished.  The  father-bird, 
who  had  always  been  allowed  to  fly  since  his  mate 
sat  upon  her  egg,  brought  the  baby  worms,  and 
did  his  best  to  supply  the  place  of  the  lost  mother. 
But  the  cat  had  tasted  of  a  dainty  morsel,  and 
one  evening  a  loud  noise  of  beating  wings  was 
heard  by  the  company  that  sat  upon  the  opposite 
side  of  the  house,  and  a  general  rush  was  made, 
everyone  exclaiming,  "The  doves!  the  doves!" 
And  it  was  the  doves  indeed.  The  cat  had 
broken  the  bars  of  the  cage  and  seized  upon  one 
of  the  birds.  The  bird  had  thrown  up  its  wing, 
and  the  cruel  claws  had  torn  its  side,  which  was 
bleeding  profusely.  The  noise  of  footsteps  had 
frightened  away  the  cat,  and,  after  a  while,  the 
ruffled  wing  had  been  closed  over  the  wound.  It 
was  proposed  to  wring  the  bird's  neck,  but  Tom 
declared  it  would  get  well  if  not  touched,  and  so 
it  was  left  ;  and  it  did  get  well.  But  another  of 
the  birds  had  been  so  frightened  by  the  assault  of 
the  cat  that  he  would  occasionally  throw  his  head 
back  as  he  sat  on  the  perch  till  he  would  lose 
his  balance  and  fall  backwards  from  it.  This 
was  repeated  many  times,  and  at  last  Tom  pro 
posed  that  he  should  be  put  carefully  into  a 


2/0  THE    TURTLE    HOYES. 

basket  and  carried  to  the  woods,  and  placed 
upon  a  tree,  that  he  might  have  the  pleasure  of 
dying  in  the  open  air — for  die  he  must,  since  he 
had  ceased  to  eat.  The  next  day,  Miss  Went- 
worth  and  the  Marchioness,  accompanied  by  the 
children,  took  the  poor  bird  in  a  basket  to  a 
pretty  little  wood  where  they  often  went  to  gather 
wild  flowers,  and  set  the  bird  upon  the  branch  of 
a  tree.  It  remained  quiet  there  for  a  long  time, 
and  at  last  spread  its  wings  and  flew  to  the  top 
of  the  tree,  and  from  there  to  another,  till  it  was 
quite  lost  sight  of ;  and  Tom,  who  had  accompa 
nied  the  party,  predicted  that  it  would  get  well 
in  its  native  woods. 

The  guard  who  watched  on  the  piazza  that  fatal 
night  had  doubtless  fallen  asleep,  but,  luckily  for 
him,  that  had  not  been  thought  of.  The  cat 
suffered  the  penalty  of  her  assault,  though  Helen 
exhausted  her  eloquence  to  make  the  children 
feel  that  the  deed  was  no  crime  on  the  part  of 
pussy,  who  only  followed  her  instinct  in  catching 
and  devouring  the  beautiful  turtle  dove,  and  she 
did  not  rest  till  she  had  made  the  children  acknowl 
edge  that  it  was  as  innocent  a  deed  on  her  part 
as  the  killing  of  a  mouse,  which  they  would  not 
have  found  fault  with.  When  the  wounded  bird 
could  again  jump  up  and  down  upon  the  perch, 
they  carried  it  also  to  the  woods,  and  Tom  made 
a  new  cage  for  the  other  birds  ;  but  it  was  not 
long  before  the  children  wanted  to  free  the  others, 


THE    TURTLE  DOVES.  2/1 

who  had  seen  the  carnage  the  cat  had  inflicted, 
and  must,  they  thought,  live  in  constant  fear. 
Helen  was  on  their  side,  and  Carolina  concurred, 
for  the  mournful  cooing  wearied  her.  They  never 
saw  their  beautiful  pets  again,  though  they  often 
looked  for  them  when  they  walked  in  the  woods, 
for  they  probably  made  their  way  to  the  other 
side  of  the  island,  their  original  home. 

As  they  strayed  homeward,  they  saw  a  spectacle 
to  be  seen  only  in  the  tropics,  the  native  region 
of  the  tarantula,  which  is  a  gigantic  spider,  as 
large  sometimes  as  the  palm  of  the  hand,  its  huge 
legs  and  head  fiercely  bearded.  One  was  lying 
in  the  path,  apparently  dying ;  but  at  a  little 
distance  stood  a  beetle  on  long  legs,  just  prepar 
ing  to  make  a  dash  at  the  spider.  The  party 
stopped  to  gaze,  when  the  beetle  darted  forward 
and  thrust  its  sting  into  the  unprotected  part  of 
its  victim's  body,  now  too  much  exhausted  by 
repeated  attacks  to  defend  itself  by  assailing  its 
enemy.  The  battle  never  ends  but  by  the  death 
of  one  of  them.  The  beetle  had  the  advantage 
this  time,  and  its  assaults  seemed  so  cruel  that 
Manuel  suddenly  picked  up  a  stone  and  threw  it 
at  him,  breaking  his  stiff  wings  and  legs.  All 
were  relieved  at  the  release  of  the  poor  spider 
that  crawled  away,  perhaps  to  recover  by  some 
process  of  nature,  but  apparently  almost  disabled. 
The  little  girls  were  much  agitated  and  afraid  of 
the  great  spider,  but  their  mother  assured  them 


2/2  THE    TURTLE    DOTES. 

that  there  was  no  creature  on  the  island  whose 
bite  was  poisonous,  or  whose  venom  could  not  be 
cured  by  killing  and  cutting  it  open,  and  laying  it 
upon  the  wound.  This  was  a  great  comfort  to 
Helen  too,  who  had  been  so  often  startled  by  a 
rush  of  insect  life,  the  darting  about  of  lizards,— 
pretty  creatures  though  they  are, — or  the  stalk 
ing,  about  of  scorpions  and  centipedes.  One  day 
she  had  taken  her  towel  from  the  bracket  to  wipe 
her  neck,  and  been  stung  by  a  scorpion  lurking  in 
its  folds  ;  but  Camilla,  who  heard  her  give  a  little 
scream,  ran  to  her  aid  and  performed  the  cure  in  a 
few  minutes.  Another  time  she  was  bitten  by  a 
land  crab  that  laid  under  the  edge  of  her  bureau, 
which  she  mistook  for  one  of  the  children's  toys 
and  stooped  to  pick  up. 

" Oh,  Aunt  Helen  !"  exclaimed  Manuel,  "look 
at  this  procession  of  drink-water  ants  (Bebeaguas)  \ 
It  looks  as  if  bits  of  leaf  were  running  along  on 
the  ground,  but  they  are  all  on  the  backs  of  ants 
that  live  in  long  galleries  under  ground,  which 
they  fill  with  these  bits  of  coffee  leaf.  Some 
times,  papa  says,  they  will  strip  a  \vbole  coffee- 
square  in  a  night,  when  the  leaves  first  grow. 
These  ants  are  carrying  them  clear  through  this 
portrero  to  the  other  side,  where  papa  had  a  great 
pit  dug,  as  large  as  our  house,  on  purpose  to  cut 
into  their  galleries." 

A  look  from  his  mother  stopped  Manuel's 
description,  for  she  did  not  wish  the  little  girls  to 


THE    TURTLE   DOVES.  ~/5 

hear  that  the  people  cut  down  young  trees  and, 
cutting  off  their  branches,  thrust  them  into  their 
galleries  and  set  fire  to  them. 

The  children  stooped  down  and  saw  the  little 
ants,  each  with  a  bit  of  leaf  about  as  large  as  the 
little  finger-nail ;  and  close  by  this  procession  was 
a  row  of  ants  going  the  other  way,  empty-backed. 

"  And  here  is  another  kind  of  ant  that  makes 
this  great  mound  that  is  as  tall  as  I  am,"  and 
Manuel  pounded  the  structure  till  he  broke  a  hole 
in  it  and  showed  covered  galleries  which  the  ants 
had  made  to  run  all  over  it,  and  up  and  down 
which  ants  were  travelling,  laden  with  their  bits 
of  earth.  These  mounds  stood  on  the  ground, 
but  Manuel  pointed  to  others  on  the  highest 
branches  of  the  trees,  which  were  reached  by 
similar  galleries  wrought  upon  the  trunks  of  the 
trees.  He  had  names  for  all  the  different 'species, 
which  Carlo- had  told  him  when  he  took  his  morn 
ing  rides  upon  his  head. 

They  saw  too  the  little  red  guinea-peas  with 
black  spots,  which  grow  on  shrubs  in  the  woods, 
and  which  the  little  girls  had  often  played  with, 
though  they  never  before  saw  them  growing  in 
their  pods.  The  cotton  ball  plant  was  also  in 
flower  and  in  seed  —  the  flower  a  beautiful  yellow, 
the  seed  a  ball  of  cotton  just  bursting  from  its 
envelope.  Helen  recognized  these  from  the  port 
folio  of  Juanita,  who  had  painted  them  all,  as 
well  as  many  beautiful  flowering  vines  that  hung 
from  the  trees. 


2/4  THE    TURTLE   DOVES. 

"  Such  wealth  of  nature  !  "  she  mentally  ejacu 
lated.  "  Why  does  it  not  speak  more  to  the  heart 
of  man  ?  Is  it  that  the  heart  of  man  can  only 
read  this  word  of  God  when  love  —  unselfish, 
divine  love  —  guides  it  ?  That  is  the  Father's 
face  which  the  child  beholds,  and  the  sight  of 
which  he  never  must  be  allowed  to  lose." 

"Birds  were  not  made  for  cages,"  Manuel  said 
one  clay,  trying  to  console  himself  for  the  loss  of 
the  doves. 

"  It  must  be  dreadful,"  replied  Miss  Wentworth, 
"  to  have  wings  and  not  be  able  to  exercise  them. 
Little  birds  are  apt  to  beat  themselves  to  death 
when  taken  from  the  free  air.  They  must,  at 
least,  be  born  in  cages  to  be  able  to  bear  it." 

"But  they  know  how  to  use  their  wings,  do  they 
not,  even  if  they  are  born  in  cages,  and  they  will 
fly  out  if  the  door  is  left  open." 

"  Just  think  of  a  little  boy  in  a  cage  —  how  he 
would  long  to  run  ! "  said  Miss  Wentworth. 

"  I'll  never  have  a  bird  in  a  cage,"  said  little 
Pepita 

"  Nor  I,"  said  Luisa. 

"Then  my  little  darlings  have  learnt  some 
thing  from  the  turtle  doves,"  said  their  mother. 
"  They  have  learned  to  be  kind  to  little  creatures 
that  cannot  speak  and  tell  what  they  wish." 

Bird-life  was  henceforth  a  fruitful  topic,  and 
Miss  Wentworth  told  the  story  of  Audubon's  life 
and  observation  of  birds  in  their  own  homes  in 


THE    TURTLE  DOVES. 

the  trees,  which  all  agreed  was  far  better  than  to 
shut  them  up  in  cages  ;  and  papa  promised  to 
send  for  the  beautiful  pictures  Audubon  painted 
of  them,  each  bird  resting  on  the  plants  or 
shrubs  or  trees  they  frequented  in  their  real 
lives. 

"  Oh,  how  many  stories  you  know,  Aunt 
Helen  !  "  said  Luisa.  "  You  know  stories  about 
everything  !  I  like  stories  better  than  anything  !  " 
And  to  this  all  agreed. 

The  birds  Juanita  and  Ludovico  had  painted  on 
the  \valls  were  now  seen  with  new  eyes  and  new 
interest  by  the  children,  and  when  they  went  to 
the  woods  they  hunted  for  birds  as  well  as  flowers. 
Birds  in  the  tropics  do  not  sing  as  melodiously  as 
those  in  the  temperate  zones,  but  their  plumage  is 
more  brilliant.  The  paroquets,  which  are  very 
gorgeous  in  color,  were  taught  new  sayings,  and 
were  often  let  out  of  their  cages,  but  they  had  be 
come  so  much  at  home  in  them,  they  would  come 
back  without  being  called  at  night,  and  cats  were 
banished  the  premises  whenever  seen. 

"  I  love  kitties,  too,"  said  little  Pepita  one  day. 
"  I  can't  have  my  kitty  now  —  I  wish  they  did  not 
kill  birds.  Why  does  the  Heavenly  Father  let 
them  do  it,  mama  ?  " 

"When  pussy  catches  a  mouse,"  said  mama, 
"  she  makes  it  so  sleepy  it  cannot  feel  being  bitten, 
and  I  think  it  must  be  so  when  they  catch  birds, 
for  I  am  sure  God  makes  everything  right.  There 


2/6  THE    TURTLE   DOTES. 

are  birds  enough  to  feed  all  the  pussies,  and  if  it 
does  not  hurt  them  to  be  eaten,  it  is  no  mat 
ter." 

"But  God  lets  people  hurt  other  people,"  said 
Manuel.  "Why  does  he  do  that,  mama?" 

"  People  are  different  from  animals,  my  boy,  and 
know  what  is  right  and  what  is  wrong  ;  they  are 
different  from  the  animals,  who  do  not  know  any 
thing  about  right  and  wrong.  God  gives  them  a 
conscience  to  guide  themselves." 

"  Mama,  my  dog  knows  when  he  has  done 
wrong,"  insisted  Manuel.  "  He  puts  his  tail  be 
tween  his  legs  and  looks  ashamed." 

"  He  knows  you  are  displeased  with  him,  but 
he  does  not  know,  as  you  do,  why  things  are 
wrong.  He  is  afraid  you  will  punish  him  if  he 
displeases  you,  but  he  knows  nothing  about  dis 
pleasing  God." 

"  Did  the  first  man  that  ever  was  born  know 
about  displeasing  God  ?  "  asked  Manuel. 

"  I  have  no  doubt  he  did,"  said  his  mother, 
"  for  that  is  just  the  difference  between  men  and 
beasts." 

"  I  wish  I  did  not  know,"  pursued  Manuel. 

"  My  little  boy,  do  you  wish  to  be  like  the 
beasts  ? " 

"  But  I  feel  so  unhappy,  mama,  when  I  have 
done  wrong.  Carlo  says  we  shall  burn  forever 
and  ever  in  everlasting  fire  if  we  do  wrong." 

"  Carlo  is  a  poor  ignorant  man,  my  dear  boy  - 


THE    Ti'RTLE   DOVES.  2JJ 

do  not  believe  what  he  says,  but  always  ask  me  or 
papa,  for  he  may  teach  you  many  untrue  things, 
not  because  he  wishes  to  tell  you  anything  that  is 
not  true,  but  because  he  is  ignorant." 

"  Don  Andres  tells  the  people  how  to  do  right 
when  he  talks  to  them  at  night.  He  tells  them 
that  if  white  people  steal,  nobody  likes  them,  and 
they  have  to  be  punished.  I  heard  him  tell  them 
so  when  I  was  over  there.  Why  can't  somebody 
talk  to  them  and  read  to  them  on  Sunday  as  you 
do  to  us  —  it  is  better  than  dancing  and  making 
that  dreadful  noise  on  the  drum." 

"  They  do  not  know  enough  to  be  talked  to 
much,  my  dear  boy  —  and,  besides,  their  dancing 
is  like  the  dancing  that  is  told  about  in  the  bible 
—  it  is  religious  dancing;  —  we  don't  know  what 
it  means,  because  we  do  not  understand  their  lan 
guage  ;  but  people  tell  us  so  who  have  been  to 
Africa  and  have  travelled  amongst  them.  Even 
savage  people  know  about  some  kind  of  God  that 
they  look  up  to,  but  the  more  people  know  about 
other  things  the  better  kind  of  God  they  worship, 
for  all  we  can  know  about  God  is  what  we  can 
think  about  him.  I  think  the  time  will  come,  my 
darling,  when  these  poor  colored  people  will  be 
free,  and  will  have  a  chance  to  be  as  wise  as  any 
one  else  —  but  people  have  to  learn  to  take  care 
of  each  other.  That  is  God's  way,  and  we  must 
all  do  the  best  we  know.  It  is  hard  to  wait,  but 
the  world  is  growing  better  slowly." 


2/8  THE    TURTLE   DOVES. 

"  Why  can't  papa  talk  to  the  people  ?  They 
like  him,  and  would  listen  to  him." 

"  They  understand  very  little  of  our  language, 
my  dear  ;  only  just  enough  to  do  the  work  they 
are  told  to  do.  They  are  not  Spaniards,  you 
know.  Don  Andres  or  papa  can  tell  them  a  few 
things,  but  not  many." 

"  In  one  country  where  they  have  made  the 
slaves  free,"  said  Helen,  "  they  taught  the  people 
a  great  deal  to  prepare  them  for  being  free, 
and  when  they  were  told  of  it,  they  fell  upon 
their  knees  and  thanked  their  Heavenly  Father 
for  their  freedom.  I  know  colored  people  in 
my  country  who  remember  all  about  that  time, 
and  who  are  good  people  and  do  not  steal  or  tell 
falsehoods  as  you  hear  them  do  here.  The  world 
is  growing  better,  dear.  Even  these  ignorant 
people  have  their  virtues.  Many  of  them  are  kind 
to  each  other  —  they  love  good  masters  and  mis 
tresses  and  good  children.  Even  poor  old 
Camilla  would  work  herself  almost  to  death  for 
you  children,  or  for  mama  —  and  yet  she  gives 
mama  much  trouble  because  she  is  ignorant  and 
does  not  know  how  to  govern  her  own  temper. 
Such  good  people  as  dear  mama  make  every  one 
better  that  lives  with  them.  That  is  the  best  way 
of  doing  good  to  people  —  to  be  good  one's  self." 

"  Dear  mama,"  said  loving  little  Pepita,  climb 
ing  into  her  mother's  lap,  "  I  want  to  hug  you  and 
kiss  you,  and  I  love  you  a  hundred  and  a  hundred 
and  a  hundred  times." 


THE    TURTLE  DOTES.  2J9 

"  And  I  won't  cry  about  my  horses,  mama," 
said  Luisa.  "  I'm  sorry  I  was  so  cross  to  Fran 
cisco  when  he  broke  Rosillo's  neck  —  he  may 
break  them  as  much  as  he  pleases."  (These  were 
the  Guinea-grasses  that  served  for  steeds.) 

"  My  darlings,  how  happy  you  make  me,"  said 
their  mother  —  "  that  is  the  only  way  to  be  good 
—  to  make  ourselves  do  right.  God  has  given  us 
consciences,  and  if  we  listen  to  the  voice  of  con 
science,  we  shall  always  do  right.  —  Xo  one  can 
do  it  for  us  but  ourselves.  I  can  help  you  think 
about  it,  but  I  cannot  do  right  for  you." 

And  yet,  comforted  as  she  was  by  the  love  and 
good  consciences  of  her  children,  the  heart  of  the 
mother  sank  within  her  when  she  thought  of  all 
the  evil  they  might  learn  from  the  poor  ignorant 
slaves. 

"  Conchita  told  me  about  that  dreadful  fire," 
said  Carlito. 

"  Do  not  believe  anvthing  about  vour  Heavenlv 

J  J  J 

Father  that  is  not  good,  darling,"  said  Helen. 
"  He  is  all  love  and  goodness." 

"  But  he  makes  wicked  people,  like  Don  Ermite 
and  Don  Alfonso,"  said  Manuel. 

"  He  does   not  make   them    wicked,   my    boy," 

.  said  his  mother,  "  he   makes   people  so  that  they 

can  be  good  if  they  wish  to.  which   is  better  than 

being  only  as   good   as   the   birds   and   fishes   and 

other  animals  ;  don't  you  think  so  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,  mama." 


2 So  THE    TURTLE   DOTES. 

"  Don't  you  wish  to  be  growing  better  and 
wiser  all  the  time,  since  you  are  to  live  forever  and 
ever  ?  the  animals  know  all  they  can  know  when 
they  are  born." 

"  Must  I  live  forever  and  ever  and  ever  ?  "  said 
Carlito.  "  I  don't  want  to  live  so  long.  I  want  to 
die  and  never  wake  up  again  when  I  hear  of  any 
thing  cruel,  cruel,  cruel,  — "  and  he  began  to  cry. 

Luisa,  who  had  been  listening,  burst  into  a 
violent  fit  of  weeping,  and  little  Pepita  swelled  and 
sobbed  in  sympathy. 

"My  darling  children,"  said  their  mother,  whose 
heart  was  sore  almost  to  bursting,  "let  us  not 
think  of  the  wrong  things  people  can  do,  but  of 
the  good  the  dear  Heavenly  Father  wishes  them 
to  do  and  has  made  them  able  to  do,  and  of  this 
beautiful  world  that  he  has  put  us  into  to  help  us 
be  good  and  kind  and  loving.  We  will  all  go  to 
drive  now,  and  see  how  many  beautiful  things  there 
are  to  make  us  happy.  Mrs.  Warwick  will  get 
you  ready  while  Aunt  Helen  and  I  go  to  find  our 
shawls."  « 

And  the  little  party  broke  up  for  the  moment. 

"  I  believe  my  heart  will  break,  Helen  —  these 
dear  children  are  too  young  for  such  sad  scenes  as 
their  eyes  are  now  opened  to.  There  is  no  such 
thing  as  shielding  them  from  such  knowledge 
here  —  I  wish  my  husband  had  been  with  us  just 
now." 

Helen's   heart   was    too    full    for    speech  —  she 


THE    TURTLE   DOTES.  28 1 

could  only  embrace  her  friend,  for  whose  pain  she 
saw  no  remedy  —  but  around  whom  darkness 
seemed  to  be  closing  —  moral  darkness,  the  silver 
lining  of  whose  cloud  was  not  yet  visible. 

This  precocity  of  experience  in  such  a  state  of 
society  is  appalling,  and,  if  fully  realized  in  its 
effects  upon  characters,  might  well  make  the  hearts 
of  mother's  break  —  but  God's  resources  are  un 
fathomable.  The  fair  universe  is  his  answer  to 
the  crying  soul,  if  that  soul  can  only  be  taught  to 
read  it  aright.  Its  ministrations  do  meet  the 
demand,  if  the  moral  evil  can  be  kept  out  of  sight 
till  the  heart  is  strengthened  by  its  teachings. 
Youth  is  the  time  for  happiness  —  but  if  love  does 
not  prevail  where  can  the  happiness  be  found  ? 
The  child  must  be  made  to  feel  that  God  is  love,  or 
he  loses  his  way  in  this  otherwise  dark  valley.  Isa 
bella  saw  as  she  had  never  seen  before  what  is  the 
mission  of  the  mother.  She  is  the  near  Providence 
who  must  represent  the  Heavenly  Father's  love 
and  wisdom. 

A  few  mornings  after  this,  as  Helen  was  about 
to  rise,  she  saw  her  door  gently  opened  and  heard 
a  low  knock  upon  it.  She  said  "  Come  in,"  and 
little  Pepita  bounded  to  the  bedside. 

"Aunt  Helen  !  won't  you  come  into  the  nursery 
a  moment  after  you  are  dressed  ?  I  want  to  show 
you  something,  oh,  so  beautiful  !  " 

"  I  will,  darling  — -give  me  a  good  kiss." 

Pepita  gave  the  kiss  and  disappeared. 


282  THE    TURTLE   DOTES. 

When  Helen  entered  the  nursery,  she  saw  upon 
the  wall  opposite  the  door  an  exquisite  painting  of 
the  turtle  dove  and  the  young  bird  sitting  upon 
a  tea-rose  bush  such  as  grow  in  the  piazza  garden. 

"  How  beautiful  !  did  Juanita  paint  it  ? "  said 
Helen. 

"  Yes,  Juanita  is  always  painting  something 
pretty  —  there  is  a  whole  portfolio  of  her  paint 
ings." 

"  I  must  look  at  them  if  they  are  as  beautiful  as 
this." 

"  Oh,  they  are,  they  are  —  she  can  paint  the 
whole  world,"  said  Manuel. 

Carolina  and  Ludovico  now  came  in  to  see  the 
painted  doves. 

"They  look  real,  not  as  if  they  were  painted," 
said  Ludovico  —  "and  they  look  to  me  as  if  they 
were  human  doves  —  such  beautiful  expression  in 
the  eyes,  as  if  they  understood  us  all  and  our  love 
for  them,"  he  continued,  quite  carried  beyond  him 
self  —  "  Look,  Carolina !  did  you  ever  see  such 
painting  as  that  ?  " 

"Who  taught  Juanita  to  paint  like  that?"  re 
plied  Carolina,  but  without  a  word  of  sympathy 
or  admiration. 

"  I  gave  her  her  first  lessons  '  said  the  Mar 
chioness,  "but  she  far  tr?n.->cends  me  now.  I 
cannot  paint  the  human  soul  looking  through  a 
dcve's  eyes.  When  you  have  time  to  look  round, 
you  will  see  her  paintings  in  all  the  halls.  Among 


THE    TURTLE   DOVES.  283 

others  you  will  see  a  view  of  the  beach  at  La 
Modestia." 

"Are  all  these  wall-paintings  hers  ?  She  must 
go  and  paint  the  walls  in  La  Modestia,  for  me." 

Juanita  was  standing  in  the  next  room,  whose 
door  was  ajar,  and  heard  this  ;  but  no  one  re 
sponded  to  it.  Juanita  was  happy  at  that  moment 
because  Ludovico  had  spoken  warmly  of  her,  but 
she  did  not  appear. 

As  they  passed  to  the  breakfast-table  on  the 
gallery,  Helen  entered  the  studio  and  found 
Juanita  leaning  against  a  window,  her  eyes  full  of 
tears.  Helen  could  not  speak,  but  she  put  her 
arms  around  her  and  kissed  her,  which  turned  the 
fountain  into  a  river.  And,  for  the  first  time, 
Helen's  eye  caught  the  view  of  a  splendid 
Madonna,  that  hung  upon  the  walls. 

"  Is  that  yours,  too  ?"  she  whispered. 

Juanita  gave  a.  mute  assent,  and  they  parted. 

When  Helen  sat  down  to  breakfast  she  said  : 
"  I  have  for  the  first  time  seen  that  Madonna  in 
the  studio.  Why  did  I  not  see  it  before  ?  " 

"  It  was  covered,  to  protect  it  from  one  of 
Camilla's  sweepings,"  said  the  Marchioness. 

"  Do  give  me  its  history  !  " 

"The  picture  came  into  the  hands  of  a  friend 
of  ours  in  Havana,  in  a  cargo  of  old  metal,  that 
was  brought  to  copper  a  vessel.  We  happened  to 
be  there  and  thought  it  might  be  something  val 
uable,  as  the  frame  was  very  massive,  but  it  was 


284  THE    TL'RTLE   DOVES. 

so  obscured  by  time  and  soiling  that  we  could  not 
decipher  it,  till  I  sent  for  some  nut  oil  and 
washed  it  all  over,  which  brought  out  all  its 
beauty.  I  was  so  desirous  of  copying  it  that  my 
friend  sent  it  to  me,  shortly  after,  for  that  pur 
pose  ;  but  it  came  in  the  season  of  the  sewing, 
and  when  that  was  passed,  and  I  was  preparing  to 
paint  it,  I  found  it  copied  by  Juanita,  who  had 
asked  me  to  let  her  paint,  that  season,  instead  of 
helping  about  the  sewing.  She  had  always  been 
so  helpful  to  me  that  I  thought  it  a  strange  re 
quest,  but,  as  it  was  the  first  indulgence  she  ever 
asked  for,  I  granted  it.  She  had  consulted  Lu- 
dovico  about  it,  and  wished  to  do  it  then,  for  fear 
she  might  lose  the  opportunity  if  she  waited.  I 
have  never  thought  it  worth  while  to  paint  it  my 
self,  as  I  could  not  compete  with  her.  It  is  called 
a  perfect  copy,  and,  to  my  eye,  there  is  a  beauty 
in  it  that  Murillo  did  not  put  into  his, — for  it 
proves  to  be  a  masterpiece  of  that  artist." 

"  Where  did  you  get  that  wonderful  creature  ?  " 
asked  Carolina,  somewhat  irreverently. 

"  Her  mother  and  grandmother  were  slaves  of 
my  grandfather,  and  he  gave  them  to  me  when  I 
was  married.  They  were  all  Mussulmans  ;  there  are 
many  Mussulmans  in  Cuba,  but  these  are  the  most 
gifted  ones  we  have  ever  known  of.  They  have 
kept  their  own  faith  through  everything,  and 
shown  themselves  capable  of  cultivation  in  every 
direction." 


THE    TURTLE   DOVES.  285 

"  Can  she  read  ? "  inquired  Carolina. 

A  latent  smile  appeared  even  on  the  face  of  the 
Marquis. 

"  Look  behind  her  door  in  her  sleeping  apart 
ment,  and  you  will  see  a  rare  art  library  on  her 
book-shelves,"  he  replied.  "  Your  aunt  keeps  her 
supplied  with  books,  as  well  as  artist's  materials." 

"Why!  what  a  Phoenix!"  exclaimed  Carolina. 
"I  presume  she  looks  down  upon  us  all.  I  thought 
I  could  draw  and  paint  pretty  well,  but  I  cannot 
hold  a  candle  to  her.  Did  she  ever  go  to  Amer 
ica?  for  I  saw  on  Miss  Wentworth's  walls  what 
seemed  to  me  to  be  American  scenery." 

"  No,"  said  the  Marchioness  ;  "that  painting  is 
mine  —  the  only  one  that  adorns  these  walls  ;  for 
I  have  spent  my  artistic  faculties  in  teaching  the 
children  to  draw  and  paint,  and  have  left  them  to 
adorn  the  walls.  These  flowers  and  birds  that 
you  see  are  Ludovico's  work.  We  live  such  a  re 
tired  life  that  we  must  make  the  most  of  such 
resources.  When  the  holidays  are  over,  I  am 
afraid  you  will  find  it  a  little  dull  here,  unless  you 
can  use  your  faculties  well." 

"  Oh,  I  am  no  artist,  —  I  care  for  society." 

"  A  woman  cannot  do  a  finer  work  than  to  bear 
her  part  nobly  in  society,  especially  here,"  said 
the  Marquis  ;  and  Isabella  felt  that  he  was  think 
ing  of  her.  Carolina  felt,  too,  as  if  this  was  a 
personal  remark,  and  that  the  conversation  was 
getting  too  serious  for  her  taste,  and  so  she  pro- 


286  TV//-;    TURTLE    DOVES. 

posed  to  Ludovico  to  take  a  ride  on  their  ponies, 
and  the  breakfast  party  dispersed.  Helen  went 
to  the  portfolios,  for  here  was  a  new  phase  of  life 
in  the  tropics.  And  in  Juanita's  portfolios  she 
found  abundant  food  for  reflection.  There  was 
the  history  of  a  soul,  as  it  were.  The  difference 
between  Juanita's  sketches,  whether  of  a  rare 
flower  or  tree  or  landscape,  or  of  a  head  - —  of 
which  there  were  innumerable  specimens, — and 
the  drawings  of  Ludovico,  was  the  difference  be 
tween  talent  and  genius.  Juanita's  were  not 
transcripts  of  anything,  though  portraits,  but  were 
expressive  of  the  highest  thought  suggested  by 
the  image. 

"That  all  this  should  be  done  in  a  corner!" 
was  Helen's  mental  ejaculation.  "  But  they  will 
live  after  her,"  was  the  next  thought. 

In  the  portfolios  of  her  friend,  she  found  ample 
testimony  to  her  love  of  New  England,  which  was 
dear  to  Helen's  heart.  In  the  summers  she  had 
always  taken  Isabella  in  her  visits  among  her 
friends,  and  here  she  found  sketches  of  the  lovely 
elm-tree  valleys  of  Massachusetts  and  Connecti 
cut,  the  azalea-covered  hills  of  Vermont,  the 
mountain-laurel  reaches  of  New  Hampshire,  the 
hemlocks  and  pines  of  Maine,  —  for  these  jaunts 
were  always  enlivened  by  sketching ;  and  the 
autumnal  coloring,  which,  in  the  language  of  one 
of  her  native  poets,  gives  the  impression  that  the 
jewels  imprisoned  in  the  earth  had  struck  their 


THE    TURTLE   DOVES.  287 

gorgeous  dyes  through  the  foliage,  had  not  been 
forgotten  by  the  little  lover  of  beauty. 

Helen  possessed  herself  of  many  of  these  gems, 
sure  she  should  obtain  her  friend's  permission  to 
hang  them  where  she  could  always  see  them. 
Ludovico's  work  had  been  to  find  the  rare  tropi 
cal  plants  —  the  night-blooming  cereus,  the  cam 
panula,  and  other  native  products,  trees  and 
fruits  which  would  vie  in  beauty  with  those  of  any 
land.  Luxury  so  enjoyed  bore  its  appropriate 
fruit,  and  harmed  no  soul  ;  and  it  was  balm  to 
Helen's  wounded  spirits,  to  see  what  a  noble  life 
•could  be,  no  matter  where  passed. 

Could  this  be  made  living  and  fruitful  to  Caro 
lina,  who  seemed  to  have  entered  this  domestic 
paradise  like  an  evil  spirit  ?  —  for  what  else  are 
selfishness  and  vanity  ? 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

PARTED    FAMILIES. 

"Ax  invitation  from  the  Countess  Lopez!  oh, 
how  delightful  ! "  exclaimed  Carolina,  dancing  one 
morning  into  the  salon,  where  sat  the  Marchioness 
and  Helen.  Ludovico  followed,  and  looked  rather 
inquiringly  at  his  mother. 

Encouraged  by  this  recognition  of  her  possible 
wishes,  Isabella  said,  "  It  is  many  years  since  I 
visited  that  lady  —  I  hardly  feel  willing  to  resume 
the  acquaintance.  Do  you  think,  my  son,  that 
you  had  better  number  her  among  your  future 
friends  ?  " 

Ludovico  knew  that  the  Countess  of  Lopez  was 
not  considered  respectable  among  Spaniards  even, 
although  the  whole  neighborhood  attended  her  fies- 

o  o 

tas,  and  he  would  not  have  accepted  the  invitation 
against  even  a  suggestion  from  his  mother  to  the 
contrary,  had  not  Carolina  vehemently,  and  even 
petulantly,  insisted. 

"  What  matter  is  it  if  she  is  not  good,  dear 
auntie?  She  cannot  hurt  us,  and  I  have  longed 
to  see  that  splendid  plantation,  and  herself  too, 
for  I  hear  she  is  the  most  beautiful  woman  in 
Cuba.  Oh,  you  must  let  us  go  !  I  am  not  afraid 

288 


PARJ'ED   FAMILIES.  289 

to  go  alone,  but  I  suppose  that,  according  to  your 
foolish  Spanish  customs,  it  will  be  proper  for  you 
to  go  too.  Oh,  do  go,  clear  aunt,  and  perhaps 
Miss  Wentworth  will  go.  I  am  sure  she  is  grave 
enough  to  balance  all  my  flightiness  —  and  I  will 
be  so  good  and  discreet.  I  had  rather  go  there 
than  anywhere  in  Cuba,  for  every  one  says  her 
parties  are  the'  pleasantest.  Every  one  goes,  and 
she  always  has  splendid  music  from  Havana. 
Pepe  says  it  is  the  greatest  fun  in  the  world  to 
catch  her  in  one  of  her  summer-houses,  where  she 
has  decoyed  some  one  in  with  her  cards,  and  is 
fleecing  him  of  all  he  has  in  the  world.  Oh, 
we  must  go  there  !  "  —  and  she  looked  to  Ludovico 
for  aid. 

"Just  this  once,  mother.  You  know  every  one 
goes.  It  will  only  look  strange  if  we  refuse  and 
go  everywhere  else." 

"  But  I  cannot  meet  her  as  one  lady  should 
meet  another,  my  son, — do  you  wish  me  to  do 
it  ?  I  should  see  that  murdered  husband  stand 
ing  between  us." 

"  Murdered  husband  ! "  exclaimed  Carolina. 
"  What !  did  she  murder  her  husband  ?  Why  ? 
Do  tell  me  about  it." 

"  She  wished  to  get  rid  of  him,  probably,  for  he 
was  a  decent  man." 

"But,  mama,"  said  Ludovico,  "was  it  ever 
proved  ? " 

"  No  attempt  was  made  to  prove  it,  but  does 
any  one  doubt  it  ?  " 


2QO  PARTED   FAMILIES. 

"Perhaps  not,"  said  he;  "and  yet  every  one 
visits  her  just  the  same." 

"  Too  many  do  that,  I  know,  but  I  cannot  make 
up  my  mind  to  do  it.  I  never  meant  that  you 
should  be  caught  in  her  summer-houses,  my  son, 
where  I  know  she  is  famous  for  gambling  away 
people's  birthrights,  and  I  hope  Carolina  will  give 
this  up  to  please  her  aunt,  and  still  more  her  uncle, 
who  would  object,  I  am  sure." 

The  Marquis  entered  at  the  moment,  and  his 
objection  was  so  decided  that  not  another  word 
could  be  said  ;  but  Helen  heard  Caroline  mutter, 
as  she  sauntered  out  upon  the  piazza,  "  When  I 
am  my  own  mistress,  I  will  do  as  I  please."  Nor 
did  the  self-willed  beauty  recover  her  good  tem 
per  during  the  day,  but  evidently  resented  the 
authority  of  her  guardians. 

Helen  hoped  Ludovico's  eyes  would  be  unsealed 
by  this  and  similar  demonstrations  of  character, 
but  Ludovico's  sympathies  were,  for  the  time 
being,  enlisted  on  Carolina's  side.  It  would  have 
been  dangerous  to  his  prospects  if  it  had  been 
otherwise,  and  this  consciousness,  not  recognized 
by  himself,  often  blinded  him  to  the  truth.  The 
Marchioness  knew  that  the  society  at  La  Mari- 
posa,  the  splendid  heritage  of  the  Lopez,  would 
be  far  from  select,  and  hoped  this  check  to  Caro 
lina's  fancies  would  be  followed  up  by  Ludovico, 
when  the  power  came  into  his  hands.  The  Coun 
tess'  entertainments  were  fabulously  enchanting, 


PARTED   FAMILIES.  29 1 

and  the  whole  world  of  the  neighborhood  would 
be  there,  but  she  had  hitherto  kept  Luclovico  from 
the  snare,  and  could  still  less  trust  Carolina  in  it. 
Even  in  that -community,  the  Marchioness  of  Rod- 
riquez  could  do  as  she  pleased,  for  she  was  re 
spected  even  by  those  who  did  not  dare  to  imitate 
her  independence. 

"  When  I  meet  the  Countess  of  Lopez,"  she 
said  to  Helen,  as  the  young  people  perambulated 
the  gallery,  "  I  speak  to  her  as  if  she  were  the  re 
spectable  woman  she  ought  to  be.  Nor  would  my 
doing  otherwise  even  be  accredited  to  the  true 
cause.  I  should  be  thought  impolite  not  to  do  so, 
but  many  mothers  who  do  the  same  would  not  take 
their  daughters  to  her  home.  So,  you  see,  we 
can  hold  up  a  little  testimony  of  our  principles, 
when  it  comes  to  treating  a  murderess  cordially. 
Her  other  crimes,  of  quite  as  deep  a  dye,  would 
be  considered  no  disqualification  for  society,  if 
this  suspicion  did  not  fill  people's  minds  with 
horror." 

"  I  hope  she  has  no  children,"  said  Helen. 

"  Yes,  she  has  several,  and  they  are  married 
well,  as  the  world  says,  and  they  are  very  decent 
people  in  comparison.  Their  standing  is  in  no 
wise  affected  by  their  mother's  character.  In 
fact,  my  dear  Helen,  gossip  is  not  the  fashion 
here,  except  among  our  slaves.  The  "  people,"  as 
they  are  called,  spread  information  about  charac 
ter  and  events.  It  is  through  them  that  we  know 


2Q2  PARTED   FAMILIES. 

what  passes  on  the  various  plantations,  and  their 
testimony  is  rarely  doubted.  They  are,  indeed, 
the  only  persons  who  have  the  means  of  knowing 
the  events  of  every-day  life,  for  it  is  not  consid 
ered  etiquette  to  report  of  our  neighbors'  doings. 
In  this  case,  it  is  not  because  people  are  above 
scandal,  but  because  every  man  lives  in  a  glass 
house.  I  should  not  dare  to  say  why  I  refuse  the 
Countess  of  Lopez'  invitation,  for  society  would 
only  laugh  at  me,  and  think  me  a  dishonorable 
neighbor  for  mentioning  my  reasons.  Another 
mother,  careful  of  her  children's  characters,  might 
surmise  my  reason,  but  we  should  not  be  likely  to 
speak  of  it  together.  Still  less  do  we  ever  criti 
cise  each  other  in  our  relations  of  slave-holders." 

At  this  moment,  mumma  Camilla  came  up  the 
steps  of  the  gallery,  crying  and  wringing  her  hands. 

"  Ay  de  mi !  my  lady  !  Ave,  sanctissima  !  poor 
mothers !  poor  little  ones !  much  people  down 
there  !  thank  God,  he  has  all  my  children  !  " 

"What  is  the  matter!  what  can  it  be?  Per 
haps  it  is  nothing,  after  all.  What  is  it,  Camilla," 
said  her  mistress,  with  an  appearance  of  calm 
ness,  for  Helen's  terror  had  startled  her  into  the 
apprehension  that  something  unusual  might  have 
occurred. 

"  There  they  are  !  there  they  go  !  "  said  Camilla, 
as  a  party  of  gentlemen  passed  the  piazza  in  com 
pany  with  the  Marquis.  "  Poor  mothers  !  poor 
little  ones  ! " 


PARTED  FAMILIES.  293 

It  was  not  the  intention  of  the  Marquis  that 
the  errand  of  his  visitors  should  transpire  to  the 
family,  at  least  till  they  had  gone,  for  he  was  dis 
turbed  at  the  thought  of  his  wife's  distress  on 
knowing  it.  But  an  event  upon  a  plantation  may 
be  likened  to  a  spark  falling  upon  dead  leaves.  It 
spreads  like  wildfire.  And  Camilla  was  not  the 
woman  to  keep  a  secret  that  would  spread  dismay. 
In  this  case,  her  own  feelings  were  enlisted,  for 
she  had  a  heart,  perverted  though  its  emotions 
were. 

The  visitors  were  a  party  of  whom  the  Marquis 
had  purchased  a  plantation  contiguous  to  his  own, 
many  years  before,  with  a  proviso  that  the  slaves 
sold  with  it  should  be  returned  to  their  owner,  if 
he  claimed  them,  at  the  end  of  twelve  years,  but, 
in  case  he  should  do  so,  any  children  born  in  the 
interval  should  remain  with  the  Marquis. 

Isabella  had  not  known  of  the  transaction.  It 
was  one  of  frequent  occurrence  in  slave  commu 
nities,  and  even  the  Marquis  had  not  hesitated  to 
consummate  the  bargain,  but,  now  the  day  of  res 
titution  had  come,  he  would  willingly  have  fore 
gone  the  advantages  of  it,  to  have  escaped  the 
consequences.  No  intimation  of  the  resumption 
of  the  slaves  had  been  given,  the  circumstances 
had  almost  escaped  his  memory,  when  the  other 
party  to  the  bargain  appeared  to  claim  his  right. 
The  Marquis  had  met  the  carriage  at  some  dis 
tance  from  the  house,  and  had  given  orders  that 


294  PARTED  FAMILIES. 

parents  and  children  should  be  sent  to  another 
part  of  the  plantation,  but  the  servants  who  led 
the  mules  for  exchange,  upon  the  road,  not  having 
been  charged  with  secrecy,  had  given  the  alarm, 
and  it  was  soon  known  in  every  direction.  Par 
ents  hurried  in  from  the  field,  were  called  from 
the  house  and  from  the  portreros  ;  children  were 
summoned  from  the  chicken  house  for  the  parting, 
for  the  mothers  were  frantic,  and  all  were  fright 
ened.  A  general  feeling  of  consternation  was 
diffused,  for  family  relations  had  been  formed, 
now  to  be  torn  asunder.  Pazienza,  the  wife  of 
Jacobo,  the  negro-driver,  a  dignified  and  respect 
able  negress,  was  godmother  to  nearly  all  the 
younger  children.  She  hastened  to  the  scene  of 
the  rendevous  to  renew  her  promises  to  take  care 
of  the  children,  who  were  crying  in  their  mother's 
arms.  Some  of  the  best  and  most  useful  negroes 
on  the  plantation  were  of  the  number  called  for. 
Stout  men  wept  to  leave  their  young  wives  and 
little  ones — for  though  no  marriage  relation  ex 
isted  in  form  on  the  plantation,  it  was  all  the 
same  to  their  simple  hearts. 

The  Marquis  had  walked  away  from  the  scene, 
after  those  who  were  to  be  taken  were  assembled, 
but  Isabella  and  Helen  hurried  to  the  spot.  A 
few  hours  only  were  given,  and  they  were  to  part 
without  hope  of  reunion,  for  they  were  to  be  con 
veyed  to  a  distant  part  of  the  island,  and  were 
nearly  all  field  hands.  The  coachman  and  per- 


PARTED   FAMILIES.  2Q5 

sonal  servants  of  the  family  are  the  only  individu 
als  on  a  plantation  who  travel  or  who  have  a 
chance  of  again  meeting  lost  members  of  their 
family. 

To  Helen  it  seemed  as  if  the  foundations  of 
things  had  given  away.  She  stood  aghast  at  the 
spectacle,  and  still  more  so  at  the  fact  that  Isa 
bella  only  wept,  and  did  not  remonstrate.  Caro 
lina's  frivolity  was  hushed  for  the  moment,  but 
when  Ludovico  swore  that  he  would  leave  the 
island  and  never  be  party  to  such  a  transaction, 
she  drew  him  away  from  the  place  on  the  plea  of 
its  being  too  painful  a  scene  to  witness,  but  evi 
dently,  as  Helen  felt,  willing  to  bear  her  part  in 
it  for  the  sake  of  being  a  wealthy  planter's  wife. 
Manuel  hid  his  face  in  his  mother's  dress,  while 
she  vainly  tried  to  bind  up  broken  hearts  by  her 
kind  words  and  promises  of  care  for  the  children. 
It  was  a  dark  day  at  La  Consolacion,  and  not  even 
the  presence  of  the  guests  at  dinner,  among  whom 
were  the  gentlemen  who  brought  all  this  dismay 
and  terror,  could  rally  the  spirits  of  the  family. 
The  Marchioness  was  obliged  to  appear,  but 
Helen  persisted  in  remaining  secluded,  ponder 
ing  upon  the  "the  sum  of  all  villanies."  Could 
slavery  show  a  deeper  woe  than  this  ?  It  seemed 
to  her  that  it  could  not.  Yet  it  was  passing  be 
fore  her  eyes  unchallenged,  and,  though  tears  and 
sobs  and  bitter  wailings  accompanied  it,  not  even 
the  victims  remonstrated.  What  could  be  a 


296  PARTED   FAMILIES. 

greater  proof  of  the  tyranny  that  held  them  in 
bonds  ?  No  outward  show  of  kindness  could 
avail  to  blind  her  to  the  conviction  that  the  Mar 
quis  ruled  with  an  iron  hand,  and  she  felt  that  she 
could  never  look  upon  him  again  but  with  horror. 

The  sad  procession  passed  the  house  toward 
evening,  followed  by  the  poor  children  and  a 
motley  assembly  of  negroes,  who  were  allowed 
to  go  as  far  as  the  gate,  and  returned  \vith  the 
little  ones  in  their  arms.  They  were  of  all  shades, 
from  the  deep  black  to  the  golden  yellow,  those 
in  arms  all  unconscious  of  their  coming  fate,  but 
some  of  the  older  ones  knowing  too  well  what 
their  destiny  was  to  be. 

No  one  spoke  to  Pazienza  on  that  day.  She 
saw  the  last  of  the  parents  and  led  some  of  the 
little  ones  by  the  hand  as  she  returned  from  the 
gate,  and  Helen  thought  she  had  never  seen  a 
face  more  expressive  of  grief  and  sympathy,  and 
the  dignity  of  sorrow,  than  that  of  this  stately 
negress.  She  passed  the  house  without  turning 
her  head  or  making  the  usual  salutation. 

"  I  must  find  Carlito,"  Helen  said  to  herself, 
starting  up.  She  found  him  lying  on  his  little 
tent-bed,  weeping  bitterly.  She  led  him  away  to 
her  own  room.  The  poor  little  boy  knew  too  well 
what  it  all  meant,  and  Helen  really  feared  that  his 
health  would  be  impaired  by  his  prolonged  sor 
rows. 

"  When    I    brought  you   into  the  country  with 


PARTED   FAMILIES. 


me,  darling,"  she  said,  as  he  rested  in  her  arms, 
with  his  own  round  her  neck,  "  I  thought  you 
would  have  some  chance  to  forget  what  had 
pained  you  much  at  home,  but  when  our  eyes 
are  once  opened  to  what  slavery  means,  there  is 
always  something  to  know  that  it  is  terrible  to 
bear  ;  but,  Carlito,  dear,  this  is  God's  world,  and 
these  poor  people  will  live  forever  and  ever  in  a 
better  world  than  this,  and  be  happy,  and  this  part 
of  their  lives  will  then  seem  to  have  been  very 
short." 

"  Will  they  live  forever  —  and  forever  —  and 
forever  ?  "  said  the  child,  his  voice  sinking  to  a 
reverent  whisper,  as  he  repeated  the  words.  "Am 
I  going  to  live  so  long,  too  ?  " 

"  Yes,  darling,  all  of  us,  and  we  must  try  to  be 
good  and  remember  that  everybody  belongs  to 
God's  family,  no  matter  what  is  the  color  of  his 
skin." 

"  And,  then,  are  they  all  my  brothers  and  sis 
ters  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  we  must  treat  them  as  kindly  as  we 
do  the  brothers  and  sisters  that  live  in  the  house 
with  us  —  they  are  all  God's  children." 

Carlito  sat  up  straight,  and  his  beautiful  face 
was  lighted  up  with  something  like  a  happy  look. 

"These  poor  people,"  Helen  went  on,  "are  very 
ignorant,  because  nothing  is  taught  them  ;  but  I 
have  known  very  nice  colored  people,  and  once  I 
had  a  little  class  of  colored  children  come  to  my 


298  PARTED   FAMILIES. 

house  every  Sunday,  after  church,  and  I  used  to 
tell  them  stories  about  °jood  children,  and  show 
them  flowers  and  shells  and  every  pretty  thing  I 
could  find,  and  some  of  them  became  very  good 
scholars  at  the  school  they  went  to,  and  grew  up 
into  lovely  characters.  One  of  those  little  girls 
lived  in  my  mother's  family  when  she  grew  up, 
and  we  all  loved  her  dearly  for  her  goodness  and 
her  kind  care  of  my  grandmother,  who  was  very 
old  and  ill,  —  a  great  many  such  people  lived  in 
the  town  where  I  did.  Their  grandmothers  had 
been  slaves,  but  they  were  so  no  longer,  and  I 
think  the  time  will  come  when  the  colored  people 
in  Cuba  will  be  free,  and  then  no  one  can  punish 
them  or  sell  them." 

"  When  I  grow  up,  I  shall  have  none,"  said 
Carlito,  "  and  Manuel  says  when  he  has  been  to 
college  he  shall  come  back  and  make  all  his  free ; 
—  he  has  a  whole  plantation  full  that  his  aunt  gave 
him  —  they  are  all  his  own,  own,  own," — this  was 
a  favorite  mode  of  expression  with  Carlito  when 
he  wished  to  be  forcible,  —  "  and  if  any  one  gives 
me  any,  I  will  come  too  and  make  mine  free." 

"  Then  you  and  Manuel  can  do  a  great  deal  of 
good,  and  perhaps  others  will  do  the  same  when 
they  see  you  do  it." 

"  Manuel  says  Don  Andres  is  very  kind,  and  his 
dogs  never  hurt  any  one  —  they  only  bark,  and 
that  frightens  the  people  enough  to  stop  them 
from  doing  wrong  ;  and  then  they  love  Don 


PARTED   FAMILIES.  299 

Andres,  too  —  Mrs.  Warwick  says  they  do  —  and 
mumma  Camilla  says  so  too." 

"  Yes,  I  know  they  do.  When  so  many  of  them 
had  the  cholera  last  year,  he  came  and  took  care 
of  them  —  and  put  up  huts  on  the  driers  so  that 
they  should  not  sleep  on  the  ground." 

"  Oh,  do  they  sleep  on  the  ground  ? " 

"  They  have  a  board,  but  that  is  laid  on  the 
ground,  and  sometimes  the  ground  is  wet.  They 
have  a  warm  blanket,  too,"  Helen  added,  regret 
ting  that  she  had  unwittingly  told  a  fact  Carlito 
seemed  not  to  have  heard  —  but  she  supposed 
Fanchon's  revelations  were  known  to  Carlito  as 
well  as  to  others.  She  resolved  not  to  forget 
again  how  much  time  he  passed  in  Mrs.  War 
wick's  nursery,  where  little  transpired  of  a  painful 
nature.  She  now  proposed  to  go  there,  for  she 
wished  to  divert  his  mind  as  much  as  possible 
from  the  horrors  around  him,  and  she  passed  the 
rest  of  the  day  with  the  children,  the  only  happy, 
unconscious  souls  on  the  plantation.  How  short 
a  period  of  their  lives  would  be  thus  shielded,  it 
was  sad  to  think. 

When  she  retired  for  the  night,  she  sat  long  at 
her  window,  with  the  feeling  that  she  needed  the 
presence  of  the  stars  to  reassure  her  that  God 
reigned  over  this  sad  world  —  till  Isabella  came  to 
bid  her  good-night. 

Helen  told  her  friend  that  she  must  return 
home,  for  her  knowledge  of  slavery  was  getting 


3°°  PARTED   FAMILIES. 

to  be  unbearable,  but  Isabella  begged  her  to  re 
main  through  the  trial  of  her  son's  wedding,  and 
Helen  was  made  aware  that  sorrow  had  wrought 
great  ravages  upon  the  mother,  and  promised  to 
do  so,  whatever  she  might  suffer  —  for  was  not 
Isabella's  portion  harder  to  bear  than  her  own  ? 

Isabella's  hope  that  Ludovico  would  never  re 
turn  to  Cuba  to  live  after  a  residence  in  France 
was  in  danger  of  being  cut  off  by  this  unfortunate 
alliance  with  his  cousin.  The  force  of  circum 
stances  might  be  too  much  for  his  resolution  ;  it 
might  even  prevent  his  forming  it,  and  probably 
would  do  so.  Carolina  would  rush  into  every  dis 
sipation,  which  would  rob  travel  of  half  its  advan 
tages,  and,  as  for  study,  there  would  be  no  hope 
of  that. 

Isabella  had  a  true  mother's  heart,  and  could 
better  bear  the  thought  of  separation  from  her 
children,  than  any  deterioration  of  character,  such 
as  she  was  apprehensive  must  ensue  from  living  in 
such  a  society  as  that  of  Cuba.  That  Ludovico 
was  to  be  absent  from  her  had  not  given  her  the 
pain  that  his  probable  future  now  gave  her.  Her 
confidence  in  her  husband's  affection  and  fidelity 
had  kept  her  happy,  but  it  was  that  alone  which 
reconciled  her  to  exposing  her  children,  even  in 
their  early  years,  to  the  contamination  of  Cuban 
life.  Her  disappointment  in  regard  to  Ludovico 
was  her  first  domestic  sorrow.  She  had  thought 
herself  afflicted  when  her  kind  father  died  —  (she 


PARTED  FAMILIES.  3OI 

did  not  remember  her  mother)  —  but  that  was  a 
natural  sorrow.  This  was  an  unnatural  one,  and 
Helen  began  to  feel  alarmed  for  her.  Isabella's 
usual  quiet  habits  of  life  were  entirely  changed  by 
the  necessity  of  accompanying  her  niece  to  all  the 
fiestas  of  the  winter,  where  her  presence  was  in 
dispensable  as  protectress.  Helen  usually  accom 
panied  her,  but  remained  at  home  when  wearied 
in  mind  or  body,  and  was  always  glad  to  be  with 
Carlito  and  Manuel,  whom  she  could  comfort  when 
the  little  girls  were  asleep. 

Isabella  had  no  choice,  as  Carolina  had  no 
thought  but  of  self.  Such  had  been  the  whirl 
of  events  that  the  friends  had  of  late  had  but  few 
opportunities  to  enjoy  hours  of  quiet  talk,  and 
Helen  became  aware,  for  the  first  time,  this  even 
ing,  of  the  change  that  had  taken  place  in  Isabella. 
Serious  injury  had  been  done  to  her  health  by 
these  dissipations  and  painful  excitements,  and 
she  promised  not  to  leave  her  while  her  sympathy 
could  be  any  relief  to  her. 

"  I  could  have  borne  the  terrible  scene  of  to-day 
better,"  said  Isabella,  "  if  I  could  have  felt  that  it 
would  strengthen  Ludovico  in  his  growing  dislike 
to  Cuban  life  ;  but  the  strong  influence  that  is 
upon  him  now  overpowers  every  other  considera 
tion,  and  I  fear  he  will  steel  himself  against  it.  I 
have  not  seen  my  husband  yet,  but  I  cannot  con 
ceal  from  him  that  this  new  experience  goes  far 
to  disgust  me  with  life  here.  I  wish  we  might  all 


3O2  PARTED  FAMILIES.         • 

be  released  from  it,  and  accompany  Ludovico 
abroad.  I  do  not  know  but  what  my  life  will 
depend  upon  it.  I  knew  that  these  things  were 
done,  but  it  was  never  brought  home  to  me  be 
fore.  How  little  we  realize  the  woes  of  others  by 
imagining  them  !  I  have  just  left  Manuel,  who 
has  been  frantic  with  grief  till  he  fell  asleep  ex 
hausted.  Mrs.  Warwick  was  so  fortunate  as  to 
keep  the  little  girls  from  much  knowledge  of  this 
sad  affair,  but  I  do  not  know  whether  it  can  be 
kept  wholly  from  them." 

"  You  need  rest  now,  dearest ;  lie  down  with 
me,  will  you  not  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  dear  Helen  ;  I  must  go  to  my  hus 
band.  I  know  he  dreads  to  meet  me,  —  but  I 
will  bid  you  good-night  now,  and  we  will  hope 
that  this  will  do  somebody  good.  It  may  soften  a 
hard  heart." 

Helen  shared  the  hope,  but  had  no  confidence 
that  Carolina  would  be  softened.  Selfish  frivolity 
is  the  most  hopeless  form  of  the  demon  that  lies 
perdu  in  the  human  heart. 

Her  fears  proved  but  too  well  founded.  The 
neighborhood  rang  for  many  days  with  the  praises 
of  the  Countess  of  Lopez'  fiesta,  and  Carolina  was 
duly  pitied  for  not  having  assisted  in  it.  The 
disappointment  was  so  bitter  a  one  that  from 
that  time  her  defiance  of  authority  was  almost 
open.  Nothing  restrained  her  but  the  fear  of  los 
ing  that  opportunity  of  independence  which  her 


PARTED   FAMILIES.  3°3 

marriage  would  give  her.  Ludovico  was  the  only 
one  who  did  not  feel  the  revolt  keenly,  and  antici 
pate  the  consequences  when  she  should  be  released 
from  the  thraldom  of  maidenhood. 

The  men  who  had  carried  away  so  many  slaves 
had  brought  with  them  four  stalwart  young  men, 
—  bound  hand  to  hand  and  foot  to  foot  with  iron 
chains  —  whom  they  had  met  on  the  way,  in  a 
coffle  of  slaves  just  brought  from  the  city  into  the 
country  for  sale.  By  offering  an  advance  price, 
the  Marquis  purchased  these  men,  to  take  the  place 
of  some  of  those  about  to  leave  the  plantation. 
They  had  been  but  a  year  in  the  island,  and  were 
evidently  of  a  tribe  superior  to  many  who  are 
brought  from  the  African  coast.  There  were 
too  many  opportunities  of  knowledge  of  escape  in 
the  city,  and  a  trader  had  brought  them  into  the 
rural  districts,  with  more  of  their  kind,  to  be  dis 
posed  of  upon  the  plantations.  These  were  the 
last  of  the  gang,  the  rest  having  been  taken  on 
the  way.  They  were  silent  witnesses  of  the  heart 
rending  scene  of  the  day.  They  were  left  all 
night  chained  together  on  the  piazza  of  the  hos 
pital,  because  no  one  was  at  leisure  to  attend  to 
them.  Some  negroes  visited  them,  carried  them 
oranges,  took  them  by  the  hand,  and  spoke  the 
words  of  their  native  dialects,  lest  perchance  they 
should  have  come  from  their  distant  homes.  The 
Marchioness  saw  them  as  she  returned  from  her 
visit  to  the  afflicted  group,  and  ordered  them 


304  PARTED  FAMILIES. 

nourishing  food,  and  inquired  if  any  one  had 
recognized  them  as  countrymen,  but  apparently  no 
one  had  done  so.  She  did  not  know  till  the 
next  day  that  neither  the  food  she  had  ordered, 
nor  the  shelter  of  a  cabin,  was  afforded  them  dur 
ing  the  night ;  but  Manuel  brought  in  the  informa 
tion,  from  his  morning  ride,  that  they  were  still 
on  the  piazza,  chained  together,  and  must  have 
been  very  uncomfortable.  The  Marquis  ordered 
their  release,  and  they  were  immediately  sent  into 
the  field  ;  for  the  important  point  in  their  case 
was  to  "break  their  spirits."  When  night  came 
round  again,  they  were  assigned  to  their  sleeping- 
places,  and,  after  the  evening  roll  was  called,  were 
locked  into  their  cabins  like  their  fellows.  At 
midnight,  the  family  was  disturbed  by  the  noise  of 
horses'  feet,  which  alarmed  Helen,  as  it  was  an 
unusual  sound.  She  refrained  from  asking  an 
explanation  in  the  morning,  for  Isabella's  sake, 
and  she  remembered  to  have  heard  the  duties  of 
the  night-guard  explained  as  watchers  of  the 
horses,  which  are  tethered  to  the  lawn  in  that 
hot  climate,  instead  of  being  shut  up  in  close 
stables.  But  mumma  Camilla  never  let  any  one 
suffer  from  ignorance,  and  when  Helen  took  her 
early  walk  on  the  piazza,  she  found  her  sauntering 
there,  with  her  arms  folded  and  a  handkerchief  over 
her  head,  the  very  picture  of  disconsolate  \voe. 
Her  theatrical  airs  were  well  understood  by  this 
time  by  her  new  victim,  but  yet  Helen  knew  that 


PARTED   FAMILIES.  305 

the  part  was  played — not  to  hide,  but  to  reveal, 
some  tragedy  that  might  elicit  an  exclamation  of 
pity  from  her. 

"  Toothache,  mumma  Camilla?  "  she  said,  kindly. 

"  No,  lady  —  no  —  poor  boy  —  poor  boy  —  new 
hand  —  just  out  of  the  woods  —  don't  know  how 
to  be  a  slave  —  caught,  lady,  caught  —  in  the 
hospital  —  all  over  —  poor  boy — poor  boy." 

"  It  is  a  shame  to  worry  you,  Miss  Helen,"  said 
-Mrs.  Warwick,  opening  her  door  ;  "  that  old  thing 
can  never  keep  anything  to  herself." 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  said  Helen,  faintly,  fearing  to 
hear. 

"  One  of  those  new  hands  got  away  last  night 
—  nobody  knows  how  —  perhaps  his  mate  an 
swered  for  him  in  the  cabin  when  Urbano  went 
round  and  called  out  their  names.  They  did  not 
know  it  till  just  before  bed-time,  but  they  found 
him  before  morning  —  he  was  several  miles  away." 

"  And  what  was  done  ?  " 

"Oh,  there  is  no  punishment  like  the  one  for 
that.  I  should  have  tried  to  beg  him  off  —  he  was 
so  new  and  so  young  —  and  perhaps  I  could  have 
done  it,  if  the  old  overseer  had  been  there,  — and 
when  they  do  whip  here,  they  always  do  it 
thoroughly  ;  they  say  it  only  makes  them  worse  to 
hurt  them  a  little." 

"  Do  not  tell  me  any  more,  now,"  said  Helen, 
gasping  for  breath ;  and  she  retreated  to  her  own 
room. 


306  PARTED  FAMILIES. 

"  Papa,"  exclaimed  Manuel  at  the  breakfast- 
table,  "  I  think  it  was  too  bad  to  whip  that  bozal 
for  running  away.  I  would  if  I  — 

"  My  son,  do  not  speak  of  what  you  do  not 
understand  —  the  people  must  not  run  away." 

There  was  something  in  his  father's  manner 
that  silenced  Manuel  ;  but  he  followed  his  mother 
to  her  room,  and  they  wept  together  over  the  sad 
necessity. 

God's  sun  shines  upon  the  just  and  the  unjust. 
Helen  felt,  when  she  looked  abroad  on  the  festal 
world  of  that  fair  clime,  that  only  in  such  lands 
could  this  crying  sin  exist  —  that  in  her  own 
wintry  one,  where  man  is  condemned  to  pass 
many  of  his  days  shut  up  in  houses,  and  where 
inclement  seasons  bring  their  own  peculiar  suf 
fering,  this  one  added  to  the  rest  would  be  more 
than  poor  human  nature  could  bear,  even  among 
the  spectators  and  perpetrators  of  the  iniquity. 
But  in  that  glorious  earth,  where  the  very  air  is 
music,  and  where  the  great  mother  pours  out 
from  her  full  bosom  such  wonders  of  vegetable 
and  animal  life,  one  can  never  for  a  moment  forget 
that  God  lives  and  reigns,  and  that  one  day  or 
other  this  great  wrong  will  be  righted,  because  he 
lives  and  reigns. 

"  Now  you  are  here,  clear  Helen,  and  all  these 
sad  things  come  before  us,  and  I  see  them  through 
your  eyes,  I  am  aware  how  I  have  comforted  my 
self  with  the  degrees  of  more  and  less  iniquity. 


PARTED   FAMILIES.  3°7 

When  I  think  of  some  of  the  neighboring  planta 
tions,  where  cruelty  is  the  rule,  —  and  I  had 
almost  said,  there  are  no  exceptions,  —  I  think  how 
fortunate  I  am  —  indeed,  we  have  been  blest  with 
a  steady  discipline  and  many  ameliorations  till 
now.  It  is  not  only  that  I  see  it  all  with  your  eyes, 
but  this  cruel  man  has  made  everything  different 
from  what  it  used  to  be.  If  the  former  overseer 
had  been  here,  he  would  have  taken  every  pre 
caution  to  soften  the  prospect  of  bondage  to  those 
poor  fellows,  who  looked  so  wild  and  untamed 
yesterday  that  my  heart  foreboded  evil  for  them. 
Don  Andres  who  sometimes  comes  over  to  help, 
was  not  here  —  perhaps  he  stayed  away  on  pur 
pose.  I  suspected  Tono  yesterday  of  being  able  to 
make  those  boys  understand  him,  for  I  saw  some 
muttering  went  on  between  them.  I  did  not  ask 
Tono  if  he  could  understand  them,  and  now  he 
would  doubtless  deny  it,  even  if  he  did  —  but  I  am 
afraid  he  put  dismay  into  their  hearts." 

"  And  they  saw  those  poor  fathers  and  mothers 
taking  leave  of  their  children,"  said  Helen. 

"  Ah,  yes  ;  Helen,  that  is  as  new  a  feature  of 
slavery  to  me  as  to  you  —  I  mean  that  I  never  saw 
it  done  before,  although  I  knew  it  was  clone  — 
but  I  never  supposed  it  would  be  done  in  my 
home.  You  can  no  longer  have  any  respect 
for  us." 

"I  love  and  respect  you,  my  darling — I  know 
you  cannot  help  it." 


308  PARTED   FAMILIES. 

11 1  have  often  thought,"  resumed  Isabella,  after  a 
long  silence,  in  which  both  she  and  Helen  realized 
that  the  love  and  respect  could  extend  no  farther, 
"  that  this  island  would  be  a  good  place  on  which 
to  begin  a  system  of  gradual  emancipation  —  for 
the  children  of  the  plantations  might  be  bound 
out  to  the  farmers  of  the  mountains,  who  are  not 
slave-holders,  and  taught  not  only  to  work,  but  to 
live  like  civilized  beings  —  and  thus  the  slaves 
might  be  fitted  to  be  hired  out  as  free  laborers. 
It  could  be  done  if  the  Spaniards  could  conceive 
of  such  a  thing  as  innovation.  I  have  an  uncle 
who  was  not  made  for  a  slaveholder,  and  whose 
plantation  is  a  perfect  scene  of  confusion  and 
waste,  and  whose  wealth  is  wearing  away,  because 
he  cannot  fall  in  with  the  views  of  discipline  and 
service  generally  adopted." 

"Will  you  explain  a  little  ?"  said  Helen. 

"  He  is  very  lax  in  discipline,  because  he  is  so 
tender-hearted  —  and,  as  no  other  motives  are  put 
before  his  people,  they,  of  course,  take  advantage 
of  his  leniency,  and  are  idle,  and  troublesome  to  all 
the  country  round.  He  would  gladly  co-operate 
with  others,  I  doubt  not,  in  turning  his  slaves  into 
freemen,  if  others  would  do  it  also,  but  he  would 
lose  caste  to  do  it  alcne,  so  he  contents  himself 
with  giving  freedom  to  favorites  who  become  part 
of  his  household  and  live  in  perfect  idleness.  Do 
you  remember  those  tall,  bedizened  women  you 
saw  walking  about  when  we  called  the  other  day  ? 


PARTED   FAMILIES.  3°9 

You  remarked  upon  their  appearance.  Those 
women  are  the  daughters  of  an  old  servant,  who, 
with  his  family,  received  his  freedom  many  years 
since.  Old  Tomas  still  waits  upon  his  master,  but 
never  has  an  eye  for  any  one  else  —  one  may  in 
vain  nod  at  him  to  take  one's  plate  —  he  sees  no 
plate  but  his  master's.  Each  of  his  three  daugh 
ters  owns  a  pony,  and  rides  about  where  she  likes. 
They  all,  father  and  children,  dress  better  than 
their  master's  family.  The  women  embroider 
muslin  beautifully,  which  they  sell  to  the  pedlers, 
and,  as  they  have  no  cares,  they  are  truly  the 
greatest  ladies  in  the  land.  Their  children  are  all 
free,  and  I  sometimes  think  they  may  inherit  the 
whole  estate.  My  uncle  has  no  foresight ;  he  is 
very  wealthy  now,  but  by  and  by  his  children 
will  begin  to  mortgage  the  patrimony,  and  the 
family  wealth  must  run  out.  Estates  here  become 
encumbered  with  debts,  which  run  for  many  years, 
till  at  last  some  terrible  crash  comes,  or,  more  prob 
ably,  some  alliance  is  formed  which  patches  things 
up  for  another  generation." 

"  Are  not  these  lands  very  productive  ?  "  asked 
Helen. 

"  Wonderfully  so,  if  well  taken  care  of,  but  there 
is  very  little  science  in  the  cultivation.  My  hus 
band  applies  a  little  to  the  renewing  of  his  lands, 
and  makes  them  twice  as  productive  as  most  other 

planters  do.  The  B s  from  the  United  States 

are  introducing  steam-engines  in  their  sugar-mills, 


3IO  PARTED  FAMILIES. 

and  are  growing  fabulously  wealthy,  because  their 
people  are  thus  released  to  cultivate  new  and 
more  extensive  estates.  They  bring  all  their  Yan 
kee  shrewdness  to  bear  upon  their  fortunes.  I 
wish  I  could  say  they  were  as  peculiar  for  their 
humanity,  but  it  is  not  the  poor  people  that  get 
the  benefit  of  their  improvements." 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

DON    ANDRES. 

"MAMA!  mama!"  said  Ludovico  one  morning 
as  he  sprang  from  his  horse  and  ran  up  the  steps, 
"  Don  Andres  has  returned  and  has  consented 
to  come  !  Is  not  that  joyful  ?  " 

"  It  is  indeed,"  replied  the  Marchioness.  "  I 
did  not  expect  it." 

Helen  looked  inquiringly. 

"  Don  Andres  is  a  character  you  do  not  yet 
know,  dear  Helen,  and  you  will  know  how  to  re 
joice  with  us  when  I  tell  you  his  history.  He  has 
consented  to  be  our  overseer,  and  it  is  such  a 
relief  that  —  " 

And  Isabella  burst  into  tears. 

"  It  does  me  good  to  cry  this  time,  so  do  not 
look  troubled,"  she  explained. 

The  Marquis,  at  that  moment,  rode  up  to  the 
door,  accompanied  by  another  Spaniard,  with  a  fine, 
open  countenance,  who  alighted  and  paid  his 
respects  to  the  ladies  with  much  courtesy,  but 
with  fewer  flourishes  than  characterized  some  of 
the  guests  whom  Helen  had  seen. 

3" 


312  DO-Y  AX  ORES. 

"Don  Andres  has  consented  to  come,"  said  the 
Marquis,  cheerfully,  "and  I  hope  you  will  feel  hap 
pier,  Bellita." 

"  I  do  indeed,"  she  replied. 

The  gentlemen  passed  on  to  the  Marquis'  apart 
ments. 

"Do  tell  us  all  about  him,  dear  aunt,"  said  Caro 
lina.  "  I  like  his  looks  very  much  —  I  hope  there 
is  something  romantic  about  him." 

"  His  history  may  be  truly  called  romantic  in 
the  best  sense  of  that  word,  for  he  is  poetical  in 
his  goodness." 

"  Mama  !  mama  !  Don  Andres  is  here,"  vocifer 
ated  Manuel,  trotting  through  the  salon  on  one  of 
his  reed  horses.  "  I  am  going  to  tell  Mrs.  War 
wick  !  "  and  he  scampered  across  the  gallery,  and 
disappeared  in  the  nursery. 

"  How  strange  it  is  that  we  have  heard  nothing 
about  Don  Andres  before,"  said  Carolina —  "  mum- 
ma  Camilla  will  come  next." 

"  Here  she  is,"  said  Ludovico. 

"  Ah  !  my  lady  !  Ave,  sanctissima.  Don  Andres 
here  !  —  come  back  !  Muchas  grazias  !  —  Don 
Andres  !  my  lady  !  " 

"Yes,  I  know  he  is  come,"  said  Isabella,  "and 
I  am  very  glad.  It  is  not  likely  she  knows  of  his 
coming  here,  however." 

Camilla  took  up  her  tray  of  sweetmeats,  which 
she  had  deposited  on  a  table  for  a  moment,  and 
went  into  her  pantry. 


DON  ANDRES.  3r3 

"  Now  for  Don  Andres,  auntie  dear,  before  any 
one  else  comes." 

"  Don  Andres  came  from  the  island  of  Majorca," 
said  the  Marchioness,  "to  make  his  fortune  in 
Cuba.  No  one  knows  his  private  history.  Some 
people  think  he  is  Basque,  and  I  am  inclined  to  be 
of  that  opinion,  for  the  Basques  are  all  educated 
men,  especially  in  an  artistic  direction.  It  is  said 
every  Basque  child  is  taught  to  draw,  and  Don 
Andres  is  a  superior  draughtsman,  and  has  genius 
for  architecture.  But  the  Majorcans  speak  all  the 
languages  of  the  Mediterranean  shores,  and  he  is 
versed  in  these. 

"On  his  way  he  was  shipwrecked,  and  lost  all  his 
effects  but  the  letters  on  his  person,  one  of  which 
was  to  our  old  blind  neighbor  who  died  a  short 
time  ago." 

"The  man  who  cried  himself  to  death?"  asked 
Carolina. 

"  Yes  ;  he  was  the  kindest  old  man  in  the 
world,  and  showed  every  attention  to  Don  Andres 
—  lent  him  money 'to  commence  his  profession 
here,  which  is  that  of  an  architect,  and  gave  him 
a  home  until  he  became  independent  in  it.  Don 
Andres  built  many  of  the  beautiful  gateways  and 
porter' s-lodges  that  you  have  admired  so  much, 
and  many  fine  houses  also,  and  was  highly  re 
spected  by  every  one  for  his  character  and  good 
judgment  and  benevolence.  Wherever  there  is 
misfortune,  he  is  always  there.  Even  when  the, 


DON  ANDRES. 

cholera  raged  here  among  the  negroes,  he  at 
tached  himself  to  a  skilful  physician  of  this  dis 
trict,  and  carried  through  sanitary  regulations  on 
many  plantations,  which  saved  much  life  and 
much  suffering ;  so  that  he  is  idolized  by  '  the 
people '  as  well  as  by  their  masters.  He  is  a  man 
of  education  and  taste,  and  his  name  is  another 
word  for  honor." 

"  Heaven  bless  him  !  "  ejaculated  Helen. 

"Take  care  that  you  are  not  jealous,  Ludo- 
vico,"  said  Carolina. 

"  The  better  you  like  him,  the  better  I  shall  like 
you,"  Ludovico  replied. 

"  Our  poor  old  neighbor  suddenly  lost  all  his 
property,  by  putting  his  name  on  his  brother's 
notes.  The  brother  was  a  bad  man,  and  ruined 
all  his  family  as  well  as  himself  by  his  extrava 
gance,  and  had  to  flee  from  his  creditors.  All 
the  negroes  of  our  poor  neighbor  were  sold  except 
fifteen,  who  belonged  to  his  wife  ;  all  his  coffee 
was  taken  from  his  packing-house  ;  his  wife  died 
of  grief ;  his  two  daughters  were  perfectly  help 
less  in  their  poverty,  and  then  Don  Andres  Torres 
showed  what  he  was.  He  came  to  them,  dis 
missed  their  overseer,  took  charge  of  the  family, 
and  has  supported  them  ever  since,  by  cultivating 
a  little  patch  of  coffee  and  vegetables  for  family 
use,  with  the  help  of  the  few  negroes ;  by  work 
ing  at  .his  profession  a  little,  when  he  had  time; 
and  by  being  the  conduit  through,  which  the  chari- 


DON  ANDRES.  315 

ties  of  the  neighborhood  have  passed  into  the 
good  old  man's  family.  They  never  ask  where 
anything  comes  from.  They  do  not  know  enough 
about  affairs  to  know  that  he  cannot  obtain  all 
they  need  from  the  plantation,  and  he  makes  it 
appear  that  he  can  do  so.  The  poor  old  man 
cried  himself  blind.  He  was  quite  infirm  when 
his  misfortunes  came  upon  him,  and  has  passed 
his  time  for  several  years  in  alternate  weeping 
and  praying,  while  Don  Andres  has  told  him  all 
things  were  going  on  nicely,  and  that  he  was 
happy  to  requite  his  former  kindness  by  acting 
the  part  of  a  son  to  him. 

"  My  husband  knew  that  Don  Andres'  means 
were  running  low,  and  he  purposes  to  pay  him 
such  a  salary  that  he  can  hire  some  one  to  take 
care  of  the  small  corner  of  the  plantation  by  which 
the  daily  wants  of  the  family  are  supplied,  and  lay 
up  something  for  himself  also.  I  was  afraid  he 
would  not  think  it  possible  to  leave  his  old  friend, 
but  it  is  easier  to  do  so  now  the  old  man  is  gone, 
and,  as  he  will  still  be  in  the  neighborhood,  he 
will  constantly  visit  the  ladies  and  superintend 
their  affairs.  He  has  probably  found  a  substitute 
for  the  labors  he  performed  already.  We  are 
indeed  fortunate.  Don  Andres  has  been  an  hon 
ored  guest  everywhere." 

"Which  shows,"  said  Ludovico,  "that,  even 
among  us,  virtue  is  honored,  if  it  is  real  virtue.  I 
hope  Don  Andres  will  make  you  think  rather 


DON  ANDRES. 

better  of  us,  Miss  Wentworth.  Mama,  we  will 
go  out  when  the  roll  is  called  this  evening,  and 
see  how  glad  the  people  will  look.  It  has  made 
me  melancholy  to  look  at  them  since  that  wretch 
was  here." 

The  ladies  from  the  plantation  of  Don  Tomas, 
as  the  old  blind  planter  had  been  familiarly  called, 
were  sent  for  to  dinner,  and  Helen  realized  for 
the  first  time  what  is  the  life  of  a  country  lady 
of  moderate  means  on  the  plantations  of  Cuba. 
These  ladies  were  somewhat  advanced  in  life,  and 
for  many  years  had  not  been  able  to  afford  visits 
to  the  city.  They  were  wholly  uncultivated  and 
very  uninteresting,  and  the  only  variety  in  their 
monotonous  lives  was  to  stand  at  the  gate  of  their 
avenue  and  look  at  the  passers-by.  If  they  had 
been  younger,  they  would  not  have  dared  to  do  it, 
for  a  lady  seen  in  a  forbidden  place  at  once  loses 
character  in  Cuba ;  but  the  misfortunes  of  their 
good  old  father  had  created  quite  a  sympathy  in 
the  neighborhood,  as  the  circumstances  under 
which  they  occurred  were  well  known,  and  the 
high  character  and  popularity  of  Don  Andres 
Torres  had  thrown  a  sort  of  consecrated  charm 
even  over  their  mediocrity. 

Helen  listened  to  their  prattle  about  the  equi 
pages  they  had  seen  and  counted  during  the  holi 
days,  the  fiestas  they  had  heard  described  by 
friends  who  had  been  so  fortunate  as  to  attend 
them,  while  they  were  watching  by  the  dying-bed 


DON  ANDRES.  31/ 

of  their  good  father ;  of  his  virtues  and  sufferings, 
and  the  kind  things  that  every  one  had  said  of 
him  since  his  death  ;  of  Don  Andres'  brotherly 
goodness  and  kind  management  of  their  few 
remaining  negroes,  and  their  sorrow  even  at  a 
nominal  parting  with  him,  but  their  joy  that  he 
was  to  be  so  near.  And  it  all  had  a  certain  musi 
cal  flow  to  Helen's  ear,  which  had  listened  so 
long  to  tales  of  woe  that  a  story  of  poetic  good 
ness  bore  healing  on  its  wings,  especially  in  that 
most  musical  of  all  languages.  Nor  was  her  sub 
sequent  acquaintance  with  Don  Andres  any  dis 
appointment. 

At  the  evening  roll-call  the  family  went  over  to 
the  gallery  of  the  overseer's  house,  before  which 
"the  people"  were  ranged,  and  every  one  an 
swered  to  his  or  her  name  with  a  cheerful  voice 
and  beaming  face,  for  the  Marquis  had  announced 
that  Don  Andres  had  come  to  rule  over  them. 
Encouragement  and  protection  were  in  the  very 
tones  of  his  loud  yet  musical  voice,  and  the  people 
well  remembered  his  kind  ministrations  when  the 
fearful  epidemic  of  the  year  before  had  prostrated 
them  by  hundreds. 

From  the  overseer's  house  it  was  but  a  step  to 
the  hospital,  and  there  Helen  —  who  accompanied 
Don  Andres  and  her  friend  to  see  poor  Pedro  — 
was  convinced  at  the  first  glance  that  her  conjec 
ture  had  been  a  true  one.  Don  Andres  laid  his 
hand  kindly  upon  the  head  of  the  poor  negro, 


DON  ANDRES. 

who  was  lying  on  a  blanket  spread  over  a  board, 
but  enjoying  the  almost  unheard-of  luxury  of  a 
soft  pillow,  which  Isabella  had  insisted  upon  at 
her  first  visit.  It  was  a  decided  innovation,  to 
which  her  husband  had  at  first  objected  (for 
billets  of  wood  are  the  only  pillows  usually 
allowed),  because  it  will  not  answer  to  make  the 
hospital  too  desirable  an  abode.  Its  friendly  rest 
and  nicer  food  were  already  too  great  an  attrac 
tion  ;  but  it  did  not  occur  to  Helen  that  there  was 
any  great  luxury  in  being  there  when  she  saw  the 
emaciated  form  of  poor  Pedro,  and  imagined  the 
discomfort  of  his  bare  bones,  without  even  a  pallet 
of  straw  under  them  !  She  inquired  the  use  of 
one  structure  that  stood  in  a  corner,  and  was  told 
it  was  the  stocks.  It  looked  to  her  like  a  gallows, 
and  she  saw  that  the  victim  must  lie  on  his  back 
upon  the  floor,  while  his  feet  were  fastened  into 
the  opening  made  for  them,  and  without  the  pos 
sibility  of  turning  over.  She  stood  a  moment 
transfixed  before  it,  and  when  she  again  met 
Isabella's  eye,  everything  swam  before  her  vision. 
She  did  not  know  what  was  passing  around  her 
again  till  she  found  herself  supported  by  the  arm 
of  Don  Andres  in  the  open  air. 

"You  must  hold  your  eyes  in  this  country, 
lady,"  said  the  good  man,  in  a  low  voice. 

Isabella  had  seen  the  look  in  Helen's  face  and 
understood  it,  and  it  was  reflected  in  her  own 
heart ;  but  she  lingered  a  moment  to  speak  an- 


DON  ANDRES.  3*9 

other  kind  word  to  Pedro,  in  hopes  that  she 
should  not  be  obliged  to  recognize  it. 

Dolores  was  not  forgotten,  and  the  two  ladies 
accompanied  Don  Andres  to  her  cabin.  He  at 
once  advised  her  removal  to  the  hospital,  where 
he  could  oversee  her  more  easily  ;  and  Helen  saw 
her  spring  from  her  hard  board  bed  when  Urbano 
—  whom  they  had  taken  as  interpreter  —  made 
her  understand  the  order. 

Dolores  knew  very  well  that  Pedro  was  still  in 
the  hospital,  and  Helen  understood  the  alacrity 
with  which  she  rose  to  go.  Her  haggard  looks 
were  sad  to  see.  Helen  hoped  something  might 
be  done  to  prevent  a  final  separation  from  Pedro, 
and  resolved  to  make  Don  Andres  a  party  to  her 
knowledge  of  their  circumstances,  when  a  good 
opportunity  offered.  But  she  knew  that  Pedro 
was  left  to  the  tender  mercies  of  Don  Ermite,  for 
the  result  of  his  brothers'  conference  with  Don 
Alfonso  was  the  requisition  of  a  fine,  which  sent 
them  all  to  their  mountain  home  penniless,  if 
they  persisted  in  rescuing  their  brother  from  the 
grip  of  the  cruel  planter,  which  they  concluded 
to  do  even  at  that  price.  Don  Alfonso  had  failed 
to  draw  the  Marquis  into  the  plot,  and,  seeing  the 
family  feeling  of  Don  Ermite's  brothers,  had  used 
it  to  their  destruction  and  his  own  gain. 

No  one  knew  when  Pedro  would  be  sent  for, 
and  he  did  not  yet  know  what  his  fate  was  to  be. 

It  was  not  long  before  Helen  found  the  oppor- 


32O  DO  A7  ANDRES. 

tunity  she  desired.  Don  Andres  was  always  a 
welcome  guest  in  the  family,  which  was  quite  an 
anomaly  in  that  society,  for  the  position  of  an 
overseer  is  uniformly  a  subordinate  one.  Don 
Andres'  character  was  the  sole  cause  of  the 
exception.  He  was  a  man  of  varied  information 
and  experience,  and  much  knowledge  of  the  world, 
and  made  himself  agreeable  to  young  and  old. 

One  evening,  when  pacing  the  gallery,  and  en 
gaged  in  conversation  with  him,  Helen  took  an 
opportunity  to  tell  him  the  history  of  Dolores  and 
Pedro,  as  far  as  she  knew  it,  and  he  was  deeply 
interested.  She  also  told  him  that  Pope  Urban 
was  a  countryman  of  theirs,  and  Don  Andres 
promised  to  draw  from  him  some  particulars  of 
their  history,  and,  if  possible,  interpose  to  pre 
vent  their  separation.  But  he  gave  her  little  hope 
of  success.  The  Marquis  would  not  choose  to 
buy  him  for  the  same  reasons  that  he  had  avoided 
giving  him  aid  when  wounded.  From  time  to 
time,  Don  Andres  spoke  with  her  upon  the  sub 
ject,  and  her  respect  for  him  increased  as  she  saw 
proofs  of  his  humanity. 

One  day  Isabella  startled  her  by  saying  in  a 
playful  way  : — 

"  My  dear  Helen,  you  must  not  indulge  Don 
Andres  in  walking  apart  with  him,  even  on  the 
piazza..  I  heard  Camilla  say  to  Urbano  that  Don 
Andres  was  going  to  marry  the  Americana.  We 
have  to  be  very  circumspect  before  our  critics, 


DON  ANDRES.  321 

who  judge  us  very  severely,  though  they  have 
another  code  of  right  for  themselves.  Seriously, 
too,  I  fear  the  good  man  will  make  himself  un 
happy  about  you.  You  show  your  regard  for  him 
very  plainly." 

"  And  I  feel  it,"  said  Helen,  "  but  I  will  take 
your  warning  both  as  a  matter  of  propriety  before 
these  sable  critics,  who,  you  say,  are  the  scandal 
mongers  of  your  society,  and  still  more  if  there  is 
any  danger  of  Don  Andres  misunderstanding  my 
regard  for  him.  But  I  do  not  think  there  is,  dear 
Isabella." 

"  I  hope  there  may  not  be,  but  you  do  not  know 
how  interesting  you  are,  and,  much  as  you  might 
esteem  Don  Andres,  and  much  as  we  all  esteem 
him,  the  influence  of  caste  is  such  that  he  could 
not  marry  into  our  circle  without  scandal  to 
us." 

"  I  would  not  be  influenced  by  that  motive  in 
my  own  case,  I  assure  you,  for  Don  Andres  is  not 
bound  to  this  soil  by  any  ties  of  preference,  or  by 
any  affinity  of  taste  with  your  institutions.  I 
know  that  from  himself,  for  our  conversation  has 
been  chiefly  upon  that  subject,  when  you  have 
seen  us  talking  apart.  I  promise  you  not  to  trifle 
with  his  heart  —  you  know  I  would  not  do  it." 

"  Yes,  I  do  know  it,  darling,  and  therefore  I 
speak  frankly.  I  really  believe  he  is  attracted  to 
you,  but  he  is  a  man  of  too  much  honor  to  ask 
you  to  share  his  fortunes,  and  so  I  must  take  care 


3 22  DON  ANDRES. 

of  him,"  she  added,  laughing.  "Do  not  look  so 
grave,  dear  Helen.  You  are  not  hurt  with  me  ? " 

"  Oh,  no,  Isabella  —  not  in  the  least  ;  I  am  only 
thinking  how  sad  it  is  that  such  a  man  should  be 
in  such  a  position.  He  is  very  noble,  and  I  will 
be  as  careful  of  him  as  you  wish.  If  I  were 
younger  and  more  susceptible,  I  do  not  know  but 
my  enthusiasm  for  Don  Andres  might  endanger 
me,  and  my  views  of  caste  are  so  very  indepen 
dent  that  I  probably  should  not  be  influenced  by 
any  such  considerations  as  those  you  refer  to. 
With  us,  you  know,  any  man  may  take  any 
position  in  society,  if  he  fits  himself  for  it  by  edu 
cation  and  character.  I  have  often  thought  we 
Americans  do  not  live  up  to  the  theory  of  our 
society  as  we  ought,  but  since  I  have  looked  back 
to  my  own  country  from  this,  I  appreciate,  as  I 
never  could  before,  its  advanced  position." 

"  You  are  right,  dear.  Such  a  state  of  society 
as  yours  is  worthy  of  envy.  I  only  wish  my  chil 
dren  could  grow  up  in  it." 

"  Will  you  not  lend  me  one  of  your  little  girls 
when  I  leave  you,  dear  Isabella  ? " 

"  Ah,  can  I  do  it,  Helen  ?  I  will  try  to  be  as 
good  a  mother  as  that.  But  my  heart  is  too  sore, 
just  now,  to  dwell  upon  it." 

Helen  was  aware  of  this,  and  said  no  more. 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

TULITA. 

"  WHOSE  splendid  livery  and  carriage  is  that  ?  " 
exclaimed  Carolina,  one  afternoon,  as  the  family 
were  sitting  on  the  piazza. 

"  It  is  the  Countess  of  Lopez',"  said  Ludovico, 
"but  I  do  not  know  the  young  lady  she  has 
brought." 

"  It  is  Tulita  Abrides,"  said  Helen. 

The  next  moment  the  superb  equipage,  with  its 
outriders,  dashed  up  to  the  steps  ;  Ludovico  de 
scended  to  meet  the  ladies. 

The  shameless  woman,  with  unblushing  face, 
greeted  the  Marchioness  as  if  on  terms  of  cour 
teous  friendship. 

"  I  know  this  is  not  etiquette,  la  Marquesa,  for 
you  did  not  come  to  my  fiesta,  and  have  not  been 
to  see  me  since.  But  our  little  friend,  here,  was 
so  eager  to  come  to  you  that  I  waived  all  cere 
mony.  —  And  these  are  your  American  friends, 
whom  I  so  much  wished  to  see  —  "  and  the  Count 
ess  welcomed  the  ladies  to  Cuba  with  all  the  grace 
in  the  world. 

The  Marchioness  was  coolly  civil  to  her,  but 
affectionate  to  Tulita,  whom  she  begged  the 

323 


324  TULITA. 

Countess  to  leave  with  her  for  a  few  days,  promis 
ing  to  send  her  safely  back.  After  a  little  parley, 
this  was  agreed  to,  and,  with  the  usual  Spanish 
blessings  and  courtesies,  the  visit  passed,  and  the 
imposing  lady  was  whirled  away  again. 

"  She  is  gloriously  beautiful !  "  exclaimed  Caro 
lina. 

"  And  so  kind  to  me  !  "  said  Tulita.  "  I  wish  you 
had  come  to  the  fiesta ;  it  was  magnificent.  Dear 
Miss  Wentworth,  how  pleasant  it  is  to  see  you 
again,  and  my  darling  Carlito." 

"  How  long  have  you  been  in  the  country,  Tu 
lita  ?  "  inquired  the  Marchioness. 

"  Several  weeks.  Papa  brought  me  up  to  the 
fiesta,  and  left  me  for  a  visit.  I  shall  soon  return, 
but  I  could  not  go  home  without  seeing  you,  and 
I  teased  the  Countess  till  she  brought  me  here." 

Isabella's  heart  ached  to  see  the  child  of  an  old 
friend  in  such  society,  and  she  wondered  at  it  as 
much  as  she  grieved.  But  Helen  observed  that 
Tulita  was  not  as  blooming  as  when  she  had  seen 
her  last. 

"Why  did  you  not  come  to  me,  my  dear,"  said 
the  Marchioness,  "  if  you  needed  country  air.  I 
begged  your  mother  to  send  you  at  any  time." 

"  Oh  !  mama  said  you  were  expecting  guests 
from  the  States,  and  you  know  the  Countess  is  an 
old  friend  of  papa's." 

Isabella  knew  it  too  well,  but  she  did  not  know 
Don  Miguel's  reasons  for  sending  Tulita  away 
from  home. 


TULITA.  32S 

I  was  about  to  say  it  is  difficult  for  an  American 
to  realize  the  desire  for  a  title,  in  a  land  of  titles. 
I  can  only  say,  however,  that  I  wish  it  was  diffi 
cult  for  an  American  to  realize  it,  but  there  are 
too  many  proofs  that  even  in  our  democratic  land 
there  is  too  much  worship  of  privileged  castes,  and 
too  much  low  aspiration  for  emulating  them.  In 
England,  this  tendency  shows  itself  in  servility  to 
the  aristocratic  class.  In  Cuba  it  is  a  raging 
passion.  In  Cuba,  the  "  sugar  nobility,"  as  it  is 
called,  is  very  numerous.  This  nickname  takes 
its  rise  in  the  fact  that  it  is  easy  for  any  man  who 
is  sufficiently  wealthy  to  buy  a  title,  and  as  the 
sugar  estates  cannot  be  taken  for  debt,  the  sugar- 
planters  soon  acquire  great  possessions,  which  are 
carefully  hoarded  till  they  can  buy  a  Marquisate. 
Such  usurpers  of  rank  are  looked  down  upon  by 
the  hereditary  nobility,  who  are  called,  par  excel 
lence,  Castilians,  but  it  is  necessary  to  inquire  into 
pedigree  to  know  who  people  are.  This  consum 
ing  passion  also  leads  many  young  ladies  to  marry 
worthless  men,  while  at  the  same  time  poor  young 
nobles  will  marry  untitled  women  if  they  are 
wealthy,  to  replenish  exhausted  coffers  and  keep 
up  the  patrimonies  they  must  otherwise  cease  to 
enjoy,  for  coffee  estates  can  be  seized  for  debt, 
and,  when  these  are  secured  by  civil  processes  of 
law,  the  coffee  can  be.  seized  at  the  very  door. 

Don  Miguel  Arbrides  had  married  a  lovely  orphan 
girl,  of  a  noble  family,  which  he  had  aided,  in  the 


TULITA. 

hour  of  need,  for  this  price.  The  lady  did  not 
know  his  avocation  of  slaver  when  she  consented 
to  be  his  wife,  for  the  knowledge  of  it  had  been 
carefully  concealed  from  her  by  her  heartless  rela 
tives,  and  his  personal  attractions  were  such  that 
he  won  her  heart  as  well  as  her  hand.  It  was  not 
an  honored  alliance  in  the  eyes  of  the  best  por 
tion  of  Cuban  society,  and  the  Marchioness,  among 
others,  had  deplored  the  sacrifice,  for  Lucia  Salvo 
was  the  daughter  of  her  mother's  friend.  Yet 
such  are  the  compromises  of  a  corrupt  society  that, 
as  long  as  Don  Miguel  was  wealthy,  he  was  ad 
mitted  to  titled  houses,  on  the  score  of  his  wife's 
rank. 

The  prostitution  of  marriage  must  always  be 
in  the  ratio  of  the  estimation  of  character  in  a 
community.  Holy  and  honored  marriage  ranks 
first  among  the  ameliorations  of  society :  its 
abuse  is  the  first  of  calamities  that  can  befall  it. 

Don  Miguel's  ambition  now  was  to  marry  his 
daughter  to  a  title,  and  he  had  therefore  encour 
aged  her  acquaintance  with  the  young  Count  of 
Carova,  who  was  high-born,  dissipated,  and  poor, 
but  whom  he  despised. 

The  Countess  of  Lopez  was  one  of  the  acquaint 
ances  of  the  young  count,  and  her  father  had 
insisted  that  Tulita  should  accept  the  invitation 
the  Countess  had  been  petitioned  by  her  youthful 
protege  to  give.  The  Countess  was  a  useful 
friend  to  the  young  nobleman  because  she  af- 


TULITA.  327 

forded  him  an  opportunity  of  gambling  to  advan 
tage,  and  sometimes  even  lost  at  play  herself,  but 
perhaps  the  latter  was  one  of  her  artifices  to  en 
trap  the  unwary. 

Tulita's  mother  would  fain  have  saved  her 
daughter  from  the  visit,  but  Don  Miguel  was 
imperative. 

The  visit  had  not  been  a  happy  one.  Tulita 
was  a  good  girl.  She  had  been  cherished  by  a 
careful  mother,  whose  early  life  of  dependence 
upon  unwilling  relatives  had  given  her  more 
knowledge  of  life  bereft  of  its  illusions  than  falls 
to  the  lot  of  most  girls  of  her  rank,  and  her  pres 
ent  life  was  clouded  by  the  fear  that  her  only  son 
would  be  made  to  follow  a  calling  which  she  could 
not  think  humane  or  respectable. 

The  Countess  of  Lopez  was  not  a  proper  guar 
dian  for  a  young  girl,  even  on  a  visit  of  a  few 
weeks,  and  the  Count  of  Carova  passed  too  many 
hours  in  card-playing,  and  paid  attention  to  too 
many  ladies  of  higher  rank  than  Tulita,  to  allow 
her  to  feel  satisfied  that  she  possessed  his  affec 
tions.  Her  maiden  delicacy  had  been  alarmed  at 
the  thought  that  he  had  flattered  her  with  atten 
tions  only  because  her  father  was  wealthy,  and 
that  he  might  at  any  moment  withdraw  them  if 
he  could  charm  a  titled  and  at  the  same  time  a 
rich  wife.  She  had  hoped  the  Marchioness  of 
Rodriguez  would  keep  her  to  while  away  the  few 
days  that  would  pass  before  her  father  should 
come  or  send  for  her. 


328  TUL1TA. 

Tulita  and  Carolina  soon  became  as  intimate  as 
young  and  inexperienced  girls  can  be  in  a  few 
days.  Carolina  was  thankful  to  learn  more  and 
more  of  the  pleasures  to  be  found  in  such  a  self- 
indulgent  person  as  the  Countess  of  Lopez,  and 
secretly  resolved,  more  and  more,  to  share  such 
pleasures  when  she  should  become  her  own  mis 
tress. 

Tulita  had  never  before  heard  the  reports  that 
had  damaged  the  Countess'  character,  and  indig- 

o  o 

nantly  defended  her,  with  the  impetuosity  of  gen 
erous  youth. 

"  I  will  not  believe  it,  either,"  said  Carolina, 
"  until  it  is  proved.  She  is  too  beautiful  and 
splendid  to  be  so  wicked." 

"And  everyone  loves  her  so  dearly,"  insisted 
Tulita. 

The  Marchioness  sighed,  but  did  not  think  it 
best  to  excite  Carolina's  opposition  farther.  Lu- 
dovico  walked  away. 

Carolina  did  not  let  him  go  unmolested.  She 
skipped  after  him,  and,  seizing  him  by  the  hands, 
made  him  waltz  down  the  piazza  with  her,  ex 
claiming  :  — 

"Come,  Ludo,  as  I  must  not  touch  any  gentle 
man  but  you,  you  must  dance  or  sing  whenever  I 
wish  you  to." 

And  away  they  whirled,  and  reappeared  at  the 
opposite  door  of  the  salon  a  few  moments  after. 

"  Heigh-ho  !  I  am  all  out  of  breath,  and  you  are 


TULITA.  329 

more  tired  than  I  am,  Ludo.  What  a  dance  I'll 
lead  you  when  "  — 

The  sentence  was  cut  short  by  the  appearance 
of  the  Marquis,  whom  Carolina  was  afraid  to 
offend.  .  .  . 

"There  is  one  thing  we  might  do  while  Tulita 
is  here,"  said  Carolina,  one  day,  "and  that  is  to 
have  some  tableaux-vivants,  for  Tulita  is  a  bru 
nette  and  I  am  a  blonde,  and  we  could  have  some 
lovely  pictures.  I  do  not  believe  these  Spaniards 
ever  saw  or  heard  of  any,  and  they  would  not 
know  who  Rebecca  the  Jewess  and  the  Lady 
Rowena  are,  but  I  have  appeared  more  than  once 
in  that  picture,  and  would  not  they  open  their 
eyes  to  see  us  ?  We  might  even  get  some  ideas 
into  their  empty  brains.  Miss  Wentworth,  you 
have  seen  tableaux-vivants,  have  you  not  ?  " 

"Oh,  yes;  it  is  a  very  pretty  amusement,  and  I 
am  sure  there  is  enough  artistic  taste  in  this  house 
to  make  very  fine  ones." 

Carolina  was  quite  wild  with  the  idea,  and  the 
Marchioness  giving  her  consent,  for  she  was  but 
too  glad  to  have  amusements  at  home,  instead  of 
seeking  them  in  dangerous  places,  it  was  decided 
to  have  some  now  the  regular  holidays  were  past. 
Nothing  must  interfere  with  the  balls  or  dances. 

Helen  found  Ludovico  had  read  Scott's  novels, 
and  there  was  no  better  quarry  for  tableaux-vivants. 
The  Lady  Rowena  and  the  Jewess  Rebecca  would 
make  a  beautiful  picture,  and  the  Marchioness 
promised  to  hunt  up  the  materials. 


33°  TULITA. 

The  games  of  society  in  Cuba  are  usually  the 
most  trivial,  childish  plays,  involving  forfeits  and 
all  the  excitement  of  redeeming  them.  Tableaux- 
vivants  are  a  great  resource  in  the  best  society, 
and  artists  are  needed  to  make  them  good. 

The  chief  difficulty  was  how  to  light  them  up ; 
candles  are  the  only  means  of  lighting  houses 
here.  It  was  decided  to  set  Tom  to  work  to 
make  a  frame  in  which  several  hundred  candles 
could  stand,  and  the  picture  frame  was  formed  in 
one  of  the  great  folding  doors  that  led  from  the 
salon  to  the  studio.  Black  cloth  filled  up  the 
space  encircling  the  frame,  and  black  lace 
stretched  across  the  opening  gave  the  softening 
effect  to  the  figures.  Helen  had  often  assisted  at 
this  pretty  amusement,  and  was  glad  to  introduce 
something  a  little  more  intellectual  than  usual. 
The  interview  between  Rowena  and  Rebecca  the 
Jewess  made  a  fine  show  of  the  two  beautiful 
girls,  and  many  a  Spaniard  resolved  on  the  spot 
to  study  English,  in  order  to  read  the  beautiful 
story  whose  outline  the  Marchioness  indicated  in 
a  few  words.  The  lovely  children  were  utilized 
also,  and  children  are  so  dramatic  in  their  own 
plays  that  they  readily  fell  into  Helen's  plans  in 
this  pretty  play,  quite  unconscious  what  an  un 
wonted  display  they  were  making  of  themselves. 

There  were  strangers  present  at  some  of  these 
tableaux,  who  had  seen  them  arranged  in  the 
States  and  in  Europe,  with  the  most  costly  appli- 


TULITA.  331 

ances,  and  who  said  they  had  never  seen  a  more 
artistic  display,  and  with  so  few  materials.  A  few 
rules  observed  in  the  construction  gave  all  the 
effects  of  good  paintings.  The  three  prime  colors 
must  enter  into  every  picture.  Helen  did  not  for 
get  this,  and  Juanita's  native  genius  for  coloring 
knew  where  to  apply  the  rule.  A  scarf  of  pure 
color  thrown  across  a  table  or  couch,  Helen's 
maroon  riding-habit,  and  an  ancient  blue  satin 
skirt  did  much  duty  on  these  occasions,  and  every 
one  was  enchanted.  Carolina  usurped  all  the 
glory,  for  it  was  her  suggestion,  but  the  skill  of 
true  artists  produced  the  effects  which  she  could 
not  have  done. 

"  The  proper  tableaux  for  Spanish  people  should 
be  taken  from  Don  Quixote's  adventures  and 
experiences,"  Ludovico  remarked  to  Helen.  "  It 
is  the  only  literature  people  here  know.  Can't 
you  make  some  tableaux  from  the  pictures  that 
illustrate  the  work  ?  I  think  they  would  set  the 
Spaniards  quite  wild." 

"  If  you  and  Don  Pepe  will  be  the  subjects  of 
my  pictures,  I  will  try  my  best,"  said  Miss  Went- 
worth. 

The  audience  was  at  home  in  Don  Quixote,  and 
so  much  were  they  excited  when  Pepe  personated 
the  knight  of  La  Mancha  doing  penance  on  the 
Sierra  Morena,  that  they  could  scarcely  preserve 
that  peculiar  decorum  which  pervades  a  crowd  in 
Spanish  society  on  public  occasions.  Pepe's  tall, 


332  TULITA. 

lank  figure,  clad  in  appropriate  garments,  or  per 
haps  some  might  say  want  of  garments,  excited 
inexhaustible  merriment.  Pepe  little  realized  how 
he  appropriated  to  himself  the  sobriquet  of  Don 
Quixote  for  the  forever  of  this  world  ;  and  the 
repetition  was  called  for  on  every  occasion  of 
tableaux.  Even  the  Spanish  women  understood 
these  tableaux. 

"  If  you  have  ever  observed  Spanish  conversa 
tion  much,"  said  the  Marchioness,  one  clay,  "you 
will  recognize  the  proverbs  from  Don  Quixote  in 
their  every-day  talk,  for  the  style  is  to  illustrate 
all  they  say  with  a  proverb  from  Don  Quixote." 

"  I  am  not  sufficiently  conversant  with  the 
work,"  said  Helen,  "to  have  understood  the 
source  of  those  sententious  remarks.  I  have 
credited  them  as  original  with  their  utterers." 

Carolina's  curiosity  was  much  stimulated  by 
this  suggestion,  and,  as  Don  Quixote  lies  on  every 
one's  table  in  Cuba,  she  soon  made  herself  ac 
quainted  with  many  of  its  witty  sayings,  and  Pepe 
was  very  happy  to  help  her  find  them. 

Pepe  was  doubly  assiduous  in  his  visits  since 
the  arrival  of  Tulita,  and  fertile  in  excuses  for  his 
frequent  calls.  He  came  very  earnestly  one  day 
to  say  :  — 

"  I  want  to  get  up  a  carnival  ride,  and,  if  you 
will  go  with  me  in  my  ox-cart,  I  will  be  the  negro 
driver,  and  we  will  go  to  see  my  aunt,  who  lives 
on  a  beautiful  estate,  and  whom  we  can  puzzle 


TULITA.  333 

completely,  for  she  only  knows  la  Marquesa  —  all 
the  rest  of  you  ladies  are  strangers  to  her." 

"  Oh,  delightful !  "  said  Carolina.  "We  can  go, 
can  we  not,  dear  aunt  ?  " 

"  If  you  will  be  very  discreet,  and  if  Don  Fer 
nando  will  go,  so  as  to  keep  Pepe  in  order,"  said 
the  Marchioness. 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  never  fear  !  I  have  plenty  of  masks, 
and  can  disguise  you  all.  It  will  not  be  the  first 
time  my  grave  brother  has  chaperoned  me  on  a 
carnival  frolic.  I  have  some  beautiful  oxen,  and 
Fernando's  Alejo  will  dress  up  the  cart.  I  shall 
be  here  by  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning  day  after 
to-morrow,  and  to-morrow  I  will  send  the  masks. 
Manuel  must  go  as  a  deaf  and  dumb  boy,  else  he 
would  be  sure  to  betray  us  all." 

"  I  can  keep  a  secret  as  well  as  any  one," 
declared  Manuel. 

"  I  would  not  trust  you,"  persisted  Pepe. 

"  You  must  take  Don  Pepe's  terms,  my  dear," 
said  his  mother.  "You  would  not  like  to  spoil 
his  sport."  So  it  was  agreed  that  Manuel  should 
be  the  deaf  and  dumb  boy. 

The  Marchioness  assured  Helen  it  was  very 
innocent  fun,  as  enacted  at  that  time.  Formerly  a 
good  many  accidents  had  occurred  by  the  wanton 
use  of  the  privilege,  and  a  law  now  existed  that 
no  one  should  appear  in  a  carnival  party  in  the 
public  roads,  but  only  within  the  limits  of  the 
plantations. 


334  TULITA. 

The  next  day  came  the  masks,  which  were 
Pepe's  work,  and  worthy  of  his  talent. 

The  Marchioness  and  Helen  personated  New 
England  witches  (this  was  Helen's  suggestion) 
and  were  dressed  in  old  plaid  woollen  cloaks,  with 
hoods  that  had  figured  on  the  voyage  to  Cuba. 
The  hoods  were  trimmed  with  black  and  white 
horse-hair,  and  each  sported  a  stick,  and  took  on 
the  character  of  fortune-teller.  Carolina  and  Tu- 
lita  were  the  belles  of  the  party,  dressed  like 
Greeks,  their  garments  and  scarfs  trimmed  with 
Greek  borders,  that  Helen  drew  for  them  ;  and 
Ludovico,  a  Turk,  who  had  them  in  charge- 
Fernando,  an  old  portly  Spanish  lady,  covered  with 
jewelry,  whose  shape  was  determined  by  a  huge 
pillow  worn  under  her  flowing  garments,  her  neck 
and  arms  bare,  and  adorned  with  bracelets.  It  is 
true  she  was  rather  of  the  gigantic  order  in 
height  as  well  as  girth,  but  the  disguise  was  com 
plete.  The  two  little  girls  were  fairies  floating  in 
gossamer. 

The  cart  was  elaborately  decorated  with 
branches  of  cocoa  and  palm,  and  Pepe  was  dis 
guised  by  a  black  silk  handkerchief  drawn  over 
his  head,  with  a  broad  negro  face  painted  upon  it, 
grinning  with  merriment,  his  eyes  gleaming  from 
the  slits  made  for  them,  his  costume  that  of  a 
dashing  calesero  with  a  steeple-crowned  hat,  and 
floating  red  ribbons.  The  masks  had  long  noses, 
of  various  shapes,  asses'  ears,  and  black  veils. 


TULITA.  335 

The  little  girls  did  not  like  the  masks,  and  were 
only  reconciled  to  them  by  knowing  the  wearers 
intimately. 

As  they  threaded  their  way  through  a  neighbor 
ing  plantation  of  a  French  gentleman,  somewhat 
advanced  in  life,  who  had  a  wife  and  sister  of  cor 
responding  age,  and  a  daughter  with  two  charm 
ing  children,  the  negroes  whom  they  passed,  and 
looked  out  upon  from  behind  their  masks,  fled  in 
every  direction,  terrified  by  the  long  noses  and 
asses'  ears.  — The  negroes  always  run  towards  the 
mansion  when  alarmed,  but  Pepe  drove  his  oxen 
as  rapidly  as  he  could  make  them  go  with  the 
goad  which  guides  oxen  in  that  country,  the  two 
heads  bound  to  one  yoke ;  and  the  whole  party 
alighted  upon  the  low  piazza.,  and  took  the  family 
by  surprise.  The  elder  members  understood  the 
frolic,  but  the  children  screamed  so  fearfully  that 
the  Marchioness  insisted  at  once  upon  the  masks 
being  taken  off,  which  resolved  the  company  into 
a  party  of  friends,  well  known  to  the  neighbors, 
and  soon  they  resumed  their  jaunt  to  the  coffee 
estate  of  la  Senora  Dona  Maraquita,  the  aunt  of 
Don  Pepe.  A  lofty  flight  of  steps  were  to  be  as 
cended,  and  when  the  party,  preceded  by  flying 
and  frightened  negroes,  appeared  on  the  great 
gallery,  the  Aunt  Maraquita  came  forward  to  meet 
them.  The  great  sport  of  the  occasion  was  the 
impenetrable  disguise,  and  it  was  truly  baffling 
until  the  aunt  spied  upon  the  finger  of  Pepe, 


336  TULITA. 

who  had  strangely  forgotten  to  disguise  his  hands, 
a  ring  which  she  had  herself  presented  to  him. 

"  Pepe  !  Pepe  !  "  she  exclaimed,  delighted  to  find 
a  clew  to  the  unexpected  party. 

"  The  ring  !  the  ring  !  that  has  betrayed  you  — 
Now  you  must  all  unmask  and  come  to  lunch,  for 
you  must  be  tired  and  hungry." 

"  First  let  the  American  witches  tell  your  for 
tune,"  insisted  Pepe. 

"Ah,  there  are  your  American  friends.  Now  I 
begin  to  see  the  light." 

The  Marchioness  threw  off  her  mask,  but  Helen 
did  not  wish  to  follow  her  example.  She  could 
not  help  herself,  however,  and,  after  rapping  with 
her  stick  in  mock  anger,  she  too  unmasked,  and 
was  cordially  greeted  by  the  lady. 

The  beauty  of  the  young  ladies  was  its  own 
apology  for  being,  and  the  dear  children  added 
their  charm  to  the  scene. 

Manuel  was  the  only  one  who  persisted  in  wear 
ing  his  mask.  When  addressed,  he  only  made 
signs,  but  not  a  murmer  escaped  his  lips.  Helen 
had  taken  the  pains  to  teach  him  the  finger 
alphabet,  the  day  before,  and  he  did  his  part  well. 

When  they  all  sat  down  to  the  delicious  lunch 
provided,  they  rested  from  their  labors,  and  Pepe 
was  rewarded  for  all  his  exertions  by  the  success 
of  his  fun. 

When  they  arrived  at  home  by  the  glorious 
moonlight,  thev  found  themselves  perfectly  ex- 


TULITA.  337 

hausted  by  the  much  laughing  all  their  droll 
adventures  had  elicited.  Even  Helen  had  been 
beguiled  into  merriment,  and  the  Marquis,  who 
had  not  accompanied  them,  felt  much  relieved  to 
see  them  safely  back  again,  though  their  three 
cavaliers  were  as  safe  guides  as  they  could  have 
had.  He  knew  they  had  to  cross  from  one  avenue 
to  another,  and  was  not  sure  but  that  Pepe  had 
made  some  unlucky  venture.  .  .  . 

Don  Pepe  ran  up  the  steps  unexpectedly  one 
day.  His  approach  had  not  been  observed. 

"  What  now  ?  "  thought  Helen.  "  Don  Pepe 
looks  quite  excited." 

"Good-morning,  ladies;  La  Marquesa,  to-mor 
row  is  your  annual  snow-storm.  Young  ladies, 
to-morrow  you  must  dress  yourselves  in  white, 
pure  white,  and  make  part  of  the  snow-storm  ;  no 
colors  are  to  be  worn  on  that  day.  1  shall  be 
happy  to  come  and  make  part  of  your  escort." 

"Snowstorm?"  said  Helen,  with  an  inquiring 
look  at  Isabella. 

"  That  is  my  word  for  the  first  coffee-blooming, 
and  Don  Pepe  has  never  forgotten  it.  If  he  had 
only  seen  a  New  England  snow-storm  he  would 
appreciate  it  still  better.  Yes,  we  will  all  be 
ready.  It  is  a  spectacle  never  to  be  neglected.  I 
hope  it  will  be  a  happy  day.  We  have  three  blos 
somings  of  the  coffee-tree  in  the  spring,  but  the 
first  is  the  fullest." 

"  I  don't  know  which  is  the  most  beautiful  spec- 


338  TULITA. 

tacle  on  that  day,"  said  Pepe,  "  the  ladies  or  the 
coffee-flowers." 

"  We  can  have  the  ladies  every  day,"  suggested 
Ludovico. 

"But  not  all  together  like  a  flock  of  angels," 
insisted  Pepe. 

"Shall  we  wear  our  fairy  dresses,  dear  mama?" 
inquired  Luisa. 

"  Yes,  my  darling." 

"  And  mama,  you  shall  be  Queen  of  the 
Fairies,"  said  Pepita. 

"  You  should  ask  Aunt  Helen  to  be  Queen  of 
the  Fairies,"  said  mama,  "  in  gratitude  for  read 
ing  you  the  beautiful  play  about  Titania." 

"  But  we  won't  have  any  ugly  men  such  as  were 
in  the  play,  mama,"  said  Manuel. 

"  No  ;  to-morrow  is  a  lady's-day,  and  you  gentle 
men  must  be  very  modest  and  humble." 

And  when  Miss  Wentworth  took  her  walk  on 
the  piazza.,  next  morning,  every  coffee-square  was 
like  a  snow-bank,  indeed.  The  orange-like  flowers 
bloom  the  whole  length  of  every  coffee-twig,  and 
fill  the  air  with  their  rich  perfume,  and,  contrary 
to  the  usual  custom,  which  is  to  keep  housed  dur 
ing  the  heat  of  the  sun,  the  gay  quitrins,  in  their 
most  beautiful  liveries,  threaded  the  walks  of  the 
plantations,  laden  with  beautiful  ladies  and  chil 
dren  dressed  in  pure  white,  and  escorted  by  the 
young  men  in  white  pantaloons  and  gay-colored 
parasols ;  and  long  white  ribbons  floated  from  the 


TULITA.  339 

steeple-crowned  hats  of  the  caleseros,  who  were 
dressed  for  the  occasion. 

By  night  the  blossoms  had  withered,  and  the 
next  morning  fell  blackened  from  the  coffee-trees. 
It  was  a  day  not  to  be  forgotten,  but  put  away  in 
the  memory  as  the  only  one  of  its  kind  in  one's 
experience. 

"  Don't  you  like  snow-storm  day,  Aunt  Helen  ? " 
inquired  Manuel,  at  breakfast-time  next  day. 

"  I  do,  indeed  ;  it  was  a  day  without  a  blot." 

"  Even  the  people  looked  happy,"  said  Manuel, 
rousing  himself,  as  if  he  had  mused  upon  the  fact. 

"  I  wish  mama  had  been  here,"  said  dear  little 
Carlito,  who  loved  to  think  of  his  mama,  but  did 
not  wish  to  return  to  Havana,  where  there  were 
no  little  girls  or  Guinea-grass  steeds,  and  Miss 
Wentworth  could  comfort  him,  when  unhappy, 
even  better  than  his  mother  could,  for  she,  too, 
was  made  unhappy  by  slavery.  She  was  doomed 
to  pass  her  life  in  it,  while  Miss  Wentworth  lived 
in  a  country  that  seemed  more  like  God's  world  to 
poor  little  Carlito's  tender  heart. 

Juanita  amused  herself  all  day  painting  coffee- 
trees  in  bloom. 

"As  to  painting,  Helen,"  said  Isabella,  "I  am 
entirely  outdone  by  Juanita.  I  have  always  made 
drawing  and  painting  the  chief  occupations  and 
amusements  of  the  children.  They  all  inherit  my 
taste  for  it,  and  I  may  truly  say  it  has  been  the 
solace  of  my  life.  I  painted  the  sketch  you  so 


34°  TULITA. 

much  admire,  soon  after  I  came  here,  when  my 
soul  hungered  and  thirsted  for  my  New  England 
home.  I  did  not  love  palm-trees  nor  their  kind 
at  first — I  pined  for  elms,  and  oaks,  and  beeches. 
If  you  should  turn  over  my  portfolios,  you  would 
find  many  sketches  that  you  would  recognize  — 
not  the  sketches,  but  the  places  sketched.  But 
after  the  children  grew  older,  they  painted  —  not  I. 
Ludovico  painted  still-life.  But  Juanita  is  the 
genius  of  painting.  She  copied  my  New  Eng 
land  sketches  over  and  over  again.  She  taught 
herself  the  art  with  them,  and  you  will  find  her 
portfolios  full  of  them.  She  once  made  a  visit 
with  us  in  the  Mountains  of  San  Salvador,  which 
you  can  see  from  here  some  clear  days,  and 
there  \ve  commanded  beautiful  sea-views.  Juanita 
steeped  her  soul  in  them,  and  after  our  re 
turn  she  painted  some  views  that  you  will  see  in 
another  room,  which  I  call  my  studio,  because  it 
has  always  been  my  painting-room.  You  will  find 
the  Berkshire  Hills  quite  pale  before  two  views 
there,  upon  which  she  wrought  many  months. 
I  had  quite  as  lief  look  at  them  as  at  the  views 
themselves.  She  seemed  to  add  something  to 
nature.  She  has  never  talked  much,  for  hers  has 
been  a  sad  and  strange  history,  but  we  all  under 
stand  her.  Ludovico  has  always  taken  great  pleas 
ure  in  teaching  her  what  he  knew. 

"  Indeed,  as  she  hung  over  the  table  where  he 
was  studying  his  lessons,  her    quick   perceptions 


TULITA.  34 ! 

caught  everything  he  did,  and  it  was  this  readi 
ness  to  learn  which  had  at  first  interested  him  in 
teaching  her.  Her  brilliancy,  her  piquant  grace, 
her  devotion  to  his  every  wish  and  whim,  and  his 
want  of  other  playmates,  united  them  more  than 
was  best,  perhaps.  You  have  made  me  question 
it  more  than  I  ever  did  before. 

"  I  had  sometimes  questioned  the  expediency  of 
such  an  intimate  intercourse,  but  the  beauty  and 
loveliness  of  the  child  were  very  great,  her  posi 
tion  isolated,  being  the  last  of  her  race,  always 
subject  to  the  envy  and  consequent  hatred  of  the 
other  slaves,  and  my  desire  to  shield  her  from  con 
tact  with  them  has  made  me  disregard  too  much, 
I  sometimes  think,  the  fact  that  she  is  still  a  slave. 
I  think  they  are  a  little  superstitious  about  her 
power  of  taking  likenesses,  which  is  very  great. 
They  seem  to  be  a  little  frightened  by  it,  as  if  it 
gave  her  some  power  over  the  individuals.  She 
once  drew  the  likeness  of  Don  Fernando  and  his 
brother  Pepe,  at  the  request  of  Ludovico,  and  I 
have  been  amused  to  see  them  sit  and  gaze  at 
these  drawings  as  if  for  the  first  time  they  had 
seen  themselves." 

"  I  wonder  she  had  the  courage  to  do  it,"  said 
Helen. 

"  She  would  not  have  had,  if  it  had  been 
necessary  for  them  to  sit  to  her.  I  must  show 
you  the  group  of  my  children  which  she  took 
several  years  ago.  Our  purpose  is  to  give  her  her 


342  TULITA. 

freedom ;  but  the  taint  of  African  blood  would  still 
remain,  and  if  she  were  free  to  dispose  of  herself, 
all  the  chances  are  that  she  would  be  led  into 
temptation  by  the  wicked.  These  pretty,  lady-like 
girls  that  are  brought  up  with  the  children  are  in 
a  terrible  position.  There  is  hardly  a  chance  of 
their  keeping  their  virtue.  They  do  not  hesitate 
to  give  themselves  to  a  white  man  if  he  is  kind 
and  attentive.  I  keep  her  out  of  the  way  of  our 
guests  as  much  as  possible.  Thus  far  she  is  en 
tirely  able  to  take  care  of  herself.  She  never 
comes  into  their  company  unless  I  bid  her,  and  I 
do  not  believe  a  stranger  ever  caught  her  eye." 

"  Her  reserve  is  wonderful  to  behold,"  replied 
Helen. 

"Yes  —  her  attachment  to  me  and  to  Ludovico 
is  the  absorbing  sentiment  of  her  being.  Separa 
tion  from  us  would  be  a  death-blow  to  her.  The 
only  circumstances  that  would  make  her  freedom 
desirable  are  those  of  possible  removal  from  the 
island,  and  this  is  but  a  shadowy  possibility,  con 
tingent  upon  Ludovico's  future. 

"  Again,  planters  are  very  circumspect  about 
bestowing  freedom  upon  their  slaves,  because 
freedom  given  to  one  makes  others  discontented. 
The  race  from  which  Juanita  had  sprung  had  been 
haughty  and  overbearing,  for  they  knew  they  were 
emancipates,  and  a  strong  hand  had  always  been 
required  to  keep  them  in  subjection.  The  mother 
and  grandmother  of  Juanita  had  demanded  their 


TULITA.  343 

freedom  as  a  right,  a  demand  which  had  been 
sternly  resisted,  for  its  admission  might  have 
necessitated  its  application  to  many  other  individ 
uals  entitled  to  it  on  the  same  ground,  all  unwit 
ting  as  they  might  be  of  the  fact." 

Neither  the  Marchioness  nor  Helen  knew  the 
secret  fire  that  burned  in  Juanita's  heart.  She  had 
carefully  guarded  the  knowledge  her  mother  had 
imparted.  As  she  grew  older  and  shared  in  Ludo- 
vico's  knowledge,  and  knew  what  freedom  meant, 
she  had  lost  her  vivacity  and  fallen  into  a  deep  mel 
ancholy.  The  Marchioness  accounted  for  it  easily 
on  the  common  principles  of  human  nature,  and 
had  often  felt  that  to  her  ignorance  would  indeed 
have  been  bliss.  She  now  allowed  her  to  occupy 
herself  very  much  as  she  pleased.  Her  tastes  were 
decidedly  artistic,  and  she  soon  surpassed  Ludo- 
vico  in  both  execution  and  conception.  She  could 
not  only  imitate  flowers  with  her  brush,  but  with 
her  needle,  and  the  exquisite  decorations  of  cur 
tains,  towelling,  table-linen,  etc.,  that  made  the 
palace  of  the  Marquis  celebrated,  were  the  work 
and  inspiration  of  her  hands,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  walls  that  constantly  brought  strangers 
there.  It  is  a  national  custom  to  paint  the  walls 
both  inside  and  outside  of  houses,  and  it  is 
generally  the  work  of  the  tutors  who  are  hired  to 
teach  the  children,  and  these  are  often  cultivated 
men,  but  their  position  in  the  family  is  little 
above  that  of  an  upper  servant.  Juanita's  decora- 


344  TULITA. 

tions  were  not  so  exceptional  therefore,  except  in 
quality,  but  that  made  them  sufficiently  famous 
to  attract  much  attention. 

While  busied  in  the  creation  of  beauty  around 
her,  the  smouldering  fires  of  Juanita's  inward 
being  were  restrained  from  bursting  into  flame. 
Every  day  the  family  board  was  arranged  like  a 
work  of  art.  Every  flowering  vine  and  tree  ap 
peared  in  its  season  upon  the  tables.  All  was 
performed  in  the  spirit  of  a  service  of  love. 
When  not  with  her  mistress,  her  home  was  the 
nursery,  where  she  assisted  Mrs.  Warwick  in  the 
care  of  the  younger  children,  whose  taste  she 
formed  unconsciously  by  the  exercise  of  her  own, 
while  the  good  Mrs.  Warwick  serenely  presided  over 
all,  the  Marchioness  herself  included,  —  for  Mrs. 
Warwick  was  one  of  those  substantial  New  Eng 
land  matrons  who  command  every  one's  respect, 
and  are  mothers  and  nurses  by  nature,  as  well  as 
by  craft,  to  all  around  them. 

Helen  listened  to  this  strange  history  with  ever 
increased  amazement  that  her  friend  should  have 
dared  to  let  the  two  children  risk  each  other's 
happiness  to  such  a  degree  as  she  felt  it  to  be  ; 
for  are  not  all  hearts  made  alike,  no  matter 
what  the  outside  semblance  or  circumstance  may 
be? 

"  I  know  what  you  must  think  of  all  this,  Helen; 
but  I  have  never  had  any  serious  fears.  Ludovico 
is  noble  and  pure,  and  so  is  Juanita.  They  both 


TULITA.  345 

know  how  completely  their  positions  in  society 
forbid  anything  like  marriage  between  them." 

"I  cannot  share  your  confidence,  dear  Isabella; 
I  only  hope  you  are  in  the  right.  You  sleep  on  a 
volcano.  May  it  never  burst  forth  into  flame  !  I 
rejoice  that  your  splendid  gifts  bring  such  re 
sources  to  yourself  and  your  children." 

One  afternoon  the  Marquis  invited  the  family 
to  accompany  him  to  the  scene  of  the  "  sleeve  of 
wind"  that  had  passed  across  the  island  in  the 
last  storm,  on  the  memorable  night  of  Pedro's 
capture.  The  devastation  it  had  wrought  in  its 
path  was  quite  curious  to  see,  and  had  been  much 
talked  of. 

It  was  arranged  that  the  elder  ladies  should 
take  the  volante,  with  Manuel  between  them,  and 
the  rest  of  the  party  go  on  horseback.  The  Mar 
quis,  after  viewing  the  pathway  of  the  storm,  was 
to  leave  them  to  Ludovico's  escort,  which  would 
be  all-sufficient. 

Traces  of  the  ravages  of  the  hurricane  were 
visible  all  the  way,  in  broken  limbs  of  trees  and 
heaps  of  whirled  leaves,  but,  at  the  distance  of 
six  miles  from  La  Consolacion,  it  had  taken  a 
definite  shape,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  in  width,  and 
everything  had  perished  in  its  grasp.  The  line  of 
hedges  looked  as  if  the  lightning  had  scathed 
them  ;  every  leaf  was  shrivelled  and  red  with  the 
mahogany-colored  dust,  that  seemed  to  have  been 
the  heated  instrument  of  the  lightning.  Trees 


34-6  TULITA. 

seventy  feet  in  height  were  uprooted*  and  stood 
upon  their  heads.  Sugar-cane  and  coffee-shrubs 
were  laid  low.  Every  vestige  of  the  plantation 
mansion  was  swept  away.  These  structures  are 
light,  the  lignum-vitas  posts  being  only  lathed 
with  cocoa-leaves,  and  covered  with  plaster.  Not 
one  post  was  to  be  seen  within  fifty  yards  of  the 
spot.  The  roof  had  been  lifted  first,  the  inmates 
raised  into  the  air,  as  if  by  suction,  and  then 
dropped.  The  negro  quarters  were  entirely  de 
molished,  and  fifteen  of  "  the  people  "  had  been 
killed.  Outside  the  path  of  devastation,  every 
thing  grew  and  bloomed  as  if  no  besom  of  heaven 
had  passed  that  way.  Farther  on,  a  royal  forest 
had  been  traversed  by  the  wind-spout,  —  if  so  it 
might  be  termed,  —  and  everything  it  touched 
had  the  appearance  of  being  twisted  by  giant 
hands.  Yet,  outside  this  path,  the  vines  still 
hung  upon  the  trees,  which  had  been  broken  on 
one  side  and  left  unscathed  on  the  other. 

It  was  a  wondrous  spectacle.  And  its  con 
trasts  seemed  to  Helen  analogous  to  those  she  had 
seen  in  the  moral  world,  in  that  fairest  of  climes, 
—  the  heart-wringings  and  despair  of  one  class, 
the  fiestas  and  gayeties  that  rang  their  fairy-bells 
within  hearing  by  the  other.  Forever  associated 
in  her  mind  would  be  the  howlings  of  the  pitiless 
storm  and  the  raging  passions  and  terrors  of  that 
night  of  horrors.  The  young  people  prattled  of 
the  tempest,  but  Helen  and  the  Marchioness  had 


TULITA.  347 

no  words  for  the  external  sign;  and,  when  they 
rode  away  from  the  scene,  "  the  poor  man  in  the 
hospital,"  as  little  Jose"  called  him, — for  he  was 
Pedro  only  to  Helen,  —  was  the  topic  of  their 
conversation,  and  not  the  storm. 

As  they  passed  a  stately  gateway  that  stood 
open,  a  loose  horse  rushed  by  them,  and  Tulita's 
pony,  excited  and  startled,  dashed  up  the  avenue 
with  headlong  speed.  The  Marquis  had  parted 
from  them  half  an  hour  before,  and  Ludovico  was 
the  only  gentleman  in  attendance.  He  followed 
Tulita,  as  did  Carolina  and  the  rest,  and  found 
her  lying  on  the  ground,  close  to  a  house  that 
stood  at  the  extremity  of  the  avenue,  and  the  pony 
gone,  no  one  knew  where. 

Tulita's  ankle  was  sprained,  and  she  was  care 
fully  lifted  from  the  ground  by  Ludovico  and  the 
fine,  Jewess-looking  lady  Helen  had  seen  at  the 
village  balls,  and  laid  upon  a  couch  on  the  piazza.. 

The  Marchioness  was  faint  with  alarm  when 
she  stepped  out  of  her  volante ;  but  Tulita  was 
apparently  not  much  hurt,  and  every  attention 
was  paid  to  the  party  by  the  lady  and  her  beauti 
ful  daughter.  A  physician  was  immediately  sum 
moned  from  a  neighboring  village,  but  the  hostess 
had  bathed  and  soothed  the  sprained  ankle  with 
so  much  skill  that  when  he  came  he  pronounced 
it  all  the  treatment  that  was  needed. 

An  urgent  invitation  was  given  to  the  party  to 
stay  all  night,  but  the  Marchioness,  when  she 


348  TULITA. 

declined,  said  her  young  triend  was  a  guest  of 
the  Countess  of  Lopez,  who  resided  on  the  very 
next  plantation,  and  she  would  restore  Tulita  to 
her  care  rather  than  remove  her  so  far  as  her  own 
residence. 

Ludovico  said  he  would  notify  the  Countess  at 
once,  and  sprang  upon  his  horse  to  do  the  errand. 
Before  the  Marchioness  was  aware,  Carolina  had 
done  the  same  and  sped  after  him.  It  was  too 
good  an  opportunity  to  be  lost,  and  she  had  now 
gained  her  point,  which  was  to  see  the  far-famed 
estate  of  La  Maripoosa. 

They  soon  returned  with  the  Countess  and  a 
light  hammock,  on  which  Tulita  was  carefully 
placed  and  carried  to  la  Maripoosa  by  four  ath 
letic  men,  who  kept  step  so  skilfully  that  she  was 
scarcely  jarred.  Helen  remarked  the  care,  and 
when  Tulita  was  asked  if  she  was  pained,  she 
replied,  "Not  much,"  and,  in  a  moment,  added, 
"  These  are  some  of  the  bozals  that  I  nursed  with 
my  own  hand  before  they  were  sold.  They  have 
been  so  good  to  me  since  I  have  been  here ! 
Good-bye !  good-bye  !  "  and  Tulita  kissed  her 
hands  to  her  friends  with  tearful  eyes. 

Helen  inquired  of  Isabella  before  they  retired 
who  those  fine-looking  ladies  were  whom  they  had 
by  constraint  visited  that  day. 

"  Are  they  Jewesses  ?  " 

"  No,  my  dear  Helen ;  they  are  the  freed  slaves 
of  a  wealthy  man  who  died  when  his  daughter 


TULITA.  349 

was  still  a  child,  and  left  her  and  her  mother  all 
his  riches.  You  saw  them  at  the  village  balls. 
Strange  to  say,  they  always  go  there,  evidently 
hoping  to  be  noticed  ;  but  they  are  never  spoken 
to.  The  young  cavaliers  who  spend  the  holidays 
in  the  country  visit  them  in  their  beautiful  home, 
but  never  speak  to  them  or  recognize  them  else 
where.  That  is  the  way  with  Spaniards.  They 
often  visit  in  the  country  families  they  do  not 
recognize  in  the  city,  and  even  this  one  is  not 
exempt  from  their  meanness.  Some  men  are  too 
gentlemanly  to  do  it,  but  the  Countess  of  Lopez' 
visitors  are  of  a  class  that  will  do  anything  to 
amuse  themselves.  I  have  seen  that  young  girl 
grow  more  and  more  melancholy  as  she  came  to 
the  balls  year  after  year.  She  is  exceptionally 
well  educated  (but  what  do  Spaniards  care  for 
that?),  and  all  the  diamonds  of  the  House  of 
Almonte  will  not  purchase  her  an  honorable  alli 
ance  ;  and  it  is  said  her  mother's  ambition  runs 
high." 

"  I  hope  they  will  both  die  of  broken  hearts 
before  they  will  accept  anything  lower,"  said 
Helen. 

"  I  hope  so  too,  but  I  fear  they  will  not.  A 
suspicion  of  negro  blood  in  women  who  are  appar 
ently  equal  in  manners  and  education  to  any  of  us, 
will  prevent  marriage.  This  mother  was  one  of 
those  beautiful  girls  brought  up  in  the  house  to 
wait  upon  the  children,  and,  ever  after  the  death 


35°  TULITA. 

of  the  old  Marquis  of  Almonte,  she  presided  at 
the  son's  table,  and  was  in  every  way  treated  as 
his  wife,  except  that  he  did  not  marry  her.  He 
never  was  married  at  all,  but  was  very  much 
attached  to  her,  and  left  all  his  riches  to  her  and 
her  daughter.  But  the  young  girl  can  have  no 
respectable  pride,  or  she  would  not  expose  herself 
to  this  public  neglect  from  those  whom  she  is 
weak  enough  to  receive  as  guests  at  home." 

"What  a  strange  state  of  things  !"  said  Helen. 

"Yes,"  said  her  friend,  "society  here  cannot 
be  easily  understood." 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

THE    FLIGHT. 

DOLORES  was  better  as  soon  as  she  became  an 
inmate  of  the  hospital.  Her  strange  condition 
had  ceased  to  command  attention,  her  "fits"  re- 
"curring  often,  and  also  the  subsequent  prostration 
inevitably  following  them. 

A  little  fellow,  eight  years  old,  belonging  to 
Don  Ermite,  had  been  left  to  take  care  of  Pedro, 
and  through  him  she  let  Pedro  know  that  she  was 
near  him.  Don  Andres  winked  at  the  messages 
and  magic  words  that  were  borne  back  and  forth 
by  Jose,  and  at  the  oranges  and  bits  of  bread  he 
often  saw  transferred  from  one  apartment  to  the 
other,  for  in  the  hospital  the  men  and  women  had 
separate  rooms.  Bread  is  an  article  unknown  to 
the  slave  on  the  plantations,  unless  a  kind  mis 
tress  sends  it  to  the  hospital,  and  it  ranks  in  his 
estimation  very  much  as  plum-cake  does  with  our 
little  boys  and  girls,  not  to  say  with  some  older 
children. 

Jose  had  always  been  silent  and  moping  in  the 
presence  of  his  master.  He  filled  the  office  of 
personal  attendant  to  him,  and  endeavored  by  de 
votion  to  his  duty  to  avoid  punishment,  but  Don 


35 2  THE  FLIGHT. 

Ermite's  bad  temper  was  often  wreaked  upon  him. 
When  his  master  was  absent  in  the  field,  Jose 
would  fill  the  air  with  his  melody,  and  the  charac 
ter  of  his  songs  was  so  peculiar  that  he  was  very 
attractive  to  the  family.  He  sang  songs  of  the 
most  sentimental  character,  Spanish  and  Italian, 
and,  when  asked  where  he  learned  them,  always  re 
plied  "the  ninas  sang  so."  Who  "the  ninas" 
were  no  one  could  ever  discover.  After  Pedro  was 
left  in  his  care,  he  refused  to  come  and  sit  on  the 
steps  of  the  piazza  to  sing,  always  giving  as  excuse 
"  sing  to  poor  man  in  the  hospital "  ;  and  when 
not  in  attendance  upon  the  poor  sufferer,  he 
would  sit  outside,  under  his  window,  and  sing  his 
sweet  songs.  No  doubt,  they  soothed  the  wretched 
man,  for  Jose's  voice  was  sweetly  wild  and  pa 
thetic  to  the  most  refined  ears.  He  varied  the 
Spanish  and  Italian  songs  with  hummings  of  his 
own,  that  were  like  the  warblings  of  birds,  and  it 
seemed  as  if  he  broke  out  into  words  when  his 
own  wild  notes  happened  to  touch  some  key  that 
brought  them  to  mind.  Manuel  never  let  him 
want  for  good  things  for  himself  or  his  patient, 
and  Jose  had  been  a  happy  little  boy  since  his 
master  had  finally  left  the  plantation. 

But  the  summons  came  at  last.  One  day  a  cart 
was  sent  for  Pedro  and  Jose.  One  of  the  brothers 
of  Don  Ermite,  who  had  been  sent  back  penniless 
to  the  mountains  by  Don  Alfonso,  came  with  it, 
and  gruffly  demanded  the  property  of  his  brother. 


THE  FLIGHT.  353 

Pedro  was  laid  upon  some  straw  in  the  bottom 
of  the  cart,  and  Jose,  weeping  aloud  in  evident 
terror,  was  placed  at  his  feet,  and  they  were  driven 
away.  There  was  not  a  heart  unmoved  upon  the 
plantation. 

Ludovico  entreated  his  father  to  buy  the  man, 
and  the  Marquis  would  have  been  glad  to  do  it,  to 
gratify  him,  but  for  his  troublesome  neighbor,  who 
might  have  made  it  an  excuse  for  farther  persecu 
tion.  Dolores  again  rent  the  air  with  her  cries, 
and  Pope  Urban  held  her  as  she  raged  and  foamed 
at  the  mouth. 

The  next  morning,  two  of  the  swiftest  horses, 
and  Urbano  and  Dolores  had  disappeared.  The 
country  was  scoured  in  pursuit.  The  horses  were 
found  loose  in  the  road  at  twenty  miles  distance, 
but  no  trace  of  the  fugitives.  No  bozal  could  have 
done  it,  but  Urbano  knew  the  way,  and  it  was  not 
difficult  to  hide  in  the  tangled  woods  that  were 
frequent  in  the  king's  public  ways,  the  districts 
being  in  the  form  of  circles,  in  which  the  planta 
tions  are  located,  and  the  gores  of  land,  as  they 
are  called,  belonging  to  the  crown,  filled  with  tim 
ber  of  the  rankest  growth. 

Don  Andres  was  obliged  to  conduct  the  pursuit, 
but  he  assured  Helen  afterwards  that  he  let  slip 
no  blood-hounds  in  the  chase.  His  dogs  never 
hurt  any  one.  Dolores  and  Urbano  were  never 
seen  again,  and  Helen  hoped  the  Pope  found 
means  to  rescue  or  buy  his  young  chief.  He  had 


354  THE  FLIGHT. 

doubtless  laid  by  money  enough,  and  there  was  no 
clanger  that  the  peasantry  would  betray  him,  for 
they  were  incensed  with  the  Marquis,  for  his  sup 
posed  neglect  of  one  of  their  class,  who  had  suffered 
in  his  service. 

The  negroes  conceal  it  by  burying  it  in  the 
ground,  and  the  floor  of  Urbano's  cabin  showed 
evident  signs  of  having  been  well  dug  over,  as  if 
it  had  contained  hidden  treasures. 

Helen  longed  to  tell  Isabella  the  story  of  these 
poor  lovers,  but  she  feared  to  do  so,  lest  the  Mar 
quis  might  think  her  to  blame  for  not  imparting 
the  knowledge  before,  however  unjust  it  might  be 
for  him  to  do  so.  As  she  had  taken  no  part  in 
their  flight,  her  conscience  was  wholly  at  rest,  and 
by  her  silence  she  would  certainly  avoid  the  possi 
bility  of  implicating  Don  Andres,  who  was  as  in 
nocent  as  herself.  She  therefore  allowed  the  vain 
conjectures  of  others  as  to  the  connection  between 
Pedro  and  the  two  who  had  fled,  to  exhaust  them 
selves,  as  they  were  sure  to  do  in  time. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

SEWING. 

THE  time  had  now  arrived  when  the  scanty  but 
extensive  wardrobe  of  the  150  slaves  must  be 
attended  to,  and  Mrs.  Warwick  and  Helen  in 
sisted  that  Isabella  should  not  incur  the  fatigue 
in  her  present  state  of  health.  Helen  therefore 
assumed  the  care  of  the  work,  assisted  by  Mrs. 
Warwick,  and  it  gave  her  much  opportunity  for 
observation  of  "the  people."  The  field  women 
assembled  every  morning  for  several  hours  to  sew 
upon  the  piazza,  and  the  new  hands  were  to  be 
trained  to  the  use  of  the  needle.  Some  of  them 
took  hold  of  it  readily,  and  as  if  not  unskilled  in  a 
more  delicate  use  of  the  fingers  than  the  handling 
of  the  weeding  knife,  while  others  found  it  very 
difficult.  Don  Andres  presided  over  the  whole 
with  admirable  tact,  not  ostensibly,  but  with  a 
sort  of  omnipresence  that  checked  any  insubordi 
nation  or  idleness,  and  this  made  Helen's  task 
more  easy.  It  had  always  been  an  occasion  when 
the  Marchioness  gained  much  moral  power  on  the 
plantation,  simply  by  not  exacting  more  than  was 
reasonable  from  these  uncultured  creatures.  All 
were  cleanly  washed,  and  those  who  owned  any 

355 


35<5  SEWING. 

garment  but  the  inevitable  duck  chemise  drawn 
over  the  breast  with  a  string  arrayed  themselves 
in  it  for  the  sewing  hours.  The  decoration  might 
be  only  a  colored  handkerchief  for  the  head,  a 
scarf  round  the  neck,  or  ear-rings  bought  from 
the  pedlers,  who  are  encouraged  to  come  upon  the 
plantations  to  keep  down  the  possible  funds  the 
slaves  may  accumulate  for  the  purchase  of  their 
freedom  ;  of  which  there  are  instances  of  success 
in  the  better  class  of  household  slaves.  These  are 
dressed  in  more  respectable  garments  than  the 
field  hands,  and  the  privilege  is  made  the  most  of, 
creating  quite  a  difference  of  caste. 

The  Marchioness  assumed  the  care  of  the  chil 
dren,  in  the  nursery,  with  Juanita's  help.  She 
was  obliged  to  recline  upon  the  sofa,  and  the  daily 
studies  were  partially  remitted.  Juanita  had  long 
been  engaged  in  embroidering  the  wedding-dress 
for  Carolina,  who  had  chosen  the  design,  and 
well  knew  the  superiority  of  Juanita's  handiwork. 
Patiently  and  sadly  she  wrought  day  after  day, 
weaving  her  poor  heart  into  the  hated  garment. 
Isabella,  who  watched  her  with  painful  interest, 
and  felt  self-reproached  that  her  kindness  to  the 
girl  had  taken  the  form  that  it  had,  willingly  inter 
rupted  her  often  for  the  amusement  of  the  chil 
dren,  and  Carlito  and  Manuel  seemed  to  divine 
Isabella's  condition.  One  morning  Juanita  was 
needed  to  assist  a  young  field  hand  to  hold  her 
needle,  and  unwittingly  took  her  embroidery  in 


SEWING.  357 

her  hand  when  she  was  called  out.  It  was  the 
waist  of  the  dress,  a  delicate  fabric  of  gossamer 
linen,  a  marvel  of  beautiful  workmanship,  nearly 
completed. 

Mumma  Camilla  was  the  chronic  torment  of  the 
sewing-women  at  these  seasons.  Their  presence 
operated  like  an  elixir  upon  her  every  day.  She 
often  moved  them  about  to  sweep  around  them 
when  she  thought  too  much  litter  of  scraps  and 
thread  ends  had  accumulated  to  look  picturesque, 
and  if  they  dropped  a  needle  or  a  thimble,  she 
would  run  to  the  spot  to  help  seek  it,  and  it  would 
be  sure  never  to  reappear.  The  defiant  looks  of 
the  women  who  were  sometimes  suspected  of  thus 
securing  to  themselves  a  few  moments  of  leisure, 
only  stimulated  her  troublesome  activity. 

When  Juanita  turned  to  the  chair  on  which  she 
had  laid  her  work  for  a  few  moments,  it  was  gone. 
She  was  betrayed  into  an  expression  of  dismay 
that  attracted  Helen's  attention.  An  immediate 
bustle  ensued.  Mumma  Camilla  was  the  busiest 
of  the  hunters.  Every  woman  was  turned  and 
shaken.  Every  chair  was  moved.  Some  of  the 
women  cried  for  fear  of  being  suspected  ;  others 
looked  angry,  but  dared  not  speak  if  they  knew 
what  had  become  of  it.  Camilla  whirled  round  the 
poor  bozal  who  had  been  the  object  of  Juanita's 
sympathy,  till  she  was  perfectly  dizzy,  Camilla  the 
while  filling  the  air  with  her  vociferations. 

"  Dress  of  the  nina  gone  !  wedding-dress  of  the 


SEWING. 


nina  !  Much  work  —  many  days  work  —  poor 
Juanita  !  thieving  bozals  —  sell  such  work  to  the 
pedlers!  enough  money  to  buy  liberty  —  "  and  she 
laughed  her  bitter  laugh. 

"  Yes,  my  lady,"  she  went  on,  "  let  me  search 
her-  —  who  else  could  have  taken  it?  —  perhaps 
she  passed  it  —  much  cunning  —  bozals  play  ball 
with  the  mud  —  pass  them  along  —  much  cunning 
—  I  imist  search  them  all—  "  and,  passing  rapidly 
about,  she  twitched  away  their  work,  thrust  her 
hands  into  their  bosoms,  and  the  more  dismay  the 
better  she  liked  it." 

Don  Andres,  who  stood  upon  the  piazza.,  at  the 
moment,  seeing  an  unusual  commotion,  in  his 
clear  and  commanding  voice  silenced  the  tumult 
at  once,  and  soon  they  were  again  seated,  Camilla, 
however,  voluble  as  ever,  describing  to  him  the 
accident  and  its  probable  effect  on  poor  Juanita, 
who  had  resigned  the  search  at  once  when  Mumma 
Camilla  assumed  it. 

It  was  too  good  an  opportunity  for  Camilla  to 
lose  in  convincing  the  large  public  before  whom 
she  performed  that  Juanita  was  one  of  them. 

"  Poor  Juanita  !  "  she  suddenly  exclaimed,  as  if 
a  new  thought  struck  her.  "  So  much  work  !  so 
tiresome  !  eyes  ache  !  back  ache  !  fine  stitches, 
many  stitches  —  poor  Juanita  —  Ave,  sanctissima 
—  do  not  punish  her  —  much  tired  —  too  many 
stitches  —  pardon  for  Juanita  —  young  people  fool 
ish  —  young  people  do  not  think;  work  towels, 


SEWING.  359 

work  curtains,  work  forever  —  too  many  stitches, 
poor  Juanita." 

"  Madama,"  said  Don  Andres,  to  Helen,  in 
answer  to  this  tirade,  "  has  this  old  woman  been 
searched  ? " 

"  I  searched  !    I'm   the   seeker  !    I   searched  ! 
screamed   Camilla.      "  Who'll   search    me  ?      Poor 
Juanita.      I    searched    all  —  moved    the   chairs  — 
shook  the  women.     I  searched,"  and  she  laughed 
defiantly. 

"  It  is  not  on  mumma  Camilla,"  said  Juanita, 
deprecatingly,  for  she  knew  the  old  thing  too  well 
to  suppose  it  would  be  found  upon  her  person,  and 
she  feared  the  consequences  of  the  accusation  to 
herself. 

"On  mumma  Camilla?  no,  indeed  !  on  me,  in 
deed  !  Poor  Juanita  !  don't  punish  her." 

"  Solidad  !  "  said  Don  Andres,  in  a  loud,  clear 
voice,  "come  and  search  this  old  woman." 

"  Ay  de  mi  !  La  Senora  !  —  ave,  sanctissima  !  — 
do  not  let  her  touch  me." 

"  It  is  but  fair,  Camilla,"  said  Helen. 

"  Go  on,  Solidad,"  said  Don  Andres. 

Camilla  looked  defiant,  and  Solidad  looked 
timid,  but  Don  Andres  approached  a  few  steps 
nearer,  and  fixed  his  eye  upon  the  former,  motion 
ing  with  his  head  to  Solidad  to  proceed.  The 
search,  which  Camilla  saw  it  was  not  best  to  resist, 
was  fruitless.  Camilla  was  too  cunning  for  that. 
When  it  was  over,  she  laughed,  more  like  a  hyena 


36O  SEWIXG. 

than  like  a  human  being,  and  darfed  into  her 
pantry  to  conceal  her  rage,  carrying  her  displaced 
head-handkerchief  in  her  hand. 

"There,  Miss  Wentworth,"  said  Carolina,  in 
English,  "  you  see  she  had  not  got  it.  I  have  no 
doubt  she  was  in  the  right,  and  that  Juanita  has 
hidden  it,  because  she  was  tired  of  it." 

Both  Helen  and  Mrs.  Warwick  protested  against 
this,  and  endeavored  to  signify  to  her  that  Juanita 
might  hear  her  ;  but  Carolina,  much  excited,  went 
on  :  — 

"  That  girl  is  more  cunning  than  you  think. 
She  takes  you  all  in.  I  do  not  care  if  she  does 
hear  me." 

Juanita  had  heard,  and  walked  away,  disdaining 
to  reply. 

As  soon  as  the  women  had  gone  to  their  cabins 
and  other  work,  Camilla  called  her  washers,  and 
for  a  second  time  that  day  the  gallery  was  flooded 
with  water,  a  running  soliloquy  of  the  old  woman 
varying  the  scene. 

"  Ave,  sanctissima !  much  women,  much  bad 
air!  poor  Juanita! — too  many  stitches  !  —  Ay  cle 
mi !  searching  me  !  who  else  to  look  for  things  ? 
Poor  Juanita !  tired,  no  wonder  —  much  sewing, 
much  tired.  Ah!  la  Marquesa!  not  yet  —  not  dry 
yet !  lazy  people  !  wipe  the  floor  !  more  dry  cloths  ! 
Canailla !  no  head!  la  Marquesa  wants  air  —  dry 
here,  mi  alma  !"  Whirls  a  long  settee  across  the 
gallery. 


SEWING.  3l 

"I  will  walk  on  the  other  side  a  few  moments," 
said  the  Marchioness. 

"  Too  much  sun,  lady  !  headache  !  "  —  runs  round 
with  a  chair. 

"  I  do  not  wish  for  a  chair,  Camilla ;  keep  at 
your  work." 

"  Yes,  yes,  lady  !  soon  dry  —  dry  now."  Whirls 
the  settee  back  again. 

"  Camilla,  let  the  settees  alone  ;  you  will  break 
them  all  to  pieces." 

When  the  Marchioness  sat  down,  Carolina  came 
to  relate  her  grievances,  and  to  accuse  Juanita. 

"  You  do  not  know  that  wicked  old  woman, 
Carolina.  She  has  often  done  such  things  before. 
No  juggler  has  more  sleight-of-hand,  and  we  shall 
probably  never  see  it  again,  at  least  until  the  occa 
sion  for  which  it  was  worked  has  passed,  and  then 
it  may  reappear.  The  reappearance  of  things  is 
often  as  mysterious  as  their  disappearance. 
Juanita  is  wholly  incapable  of  any  such  act." 

Camilla,  who  had  retired  a  moment  to  her  pan 
try,  to  readjust  her  turban  and  put  on  dry  shoes, 
hearing  voices,  peeped  out,  and  soon  emerged 
with  her  duster. 

The  Marchioness,  who  was  very  willing  that  she 
should  know  her  opinion  of  her,  went  on. 

"One  day  she  broke  a  guardabrisa  while  dust 
ing  the  buffet.  It  was  a  very  valuable  one,  of  cut- 
glass,  and  could  not  be  replaced  here.  I  expressed 
a  great  deal  of  regret  and  vexation  at  her  careless- 


SEWING. 

ness.  I  was  not  wise,  for  a  few  days  afterward 
the  mate  to  it  disappeared.  I  accused  her  of  hav 
ing  broken  it ;  but  she  denied  it  vehemently,  invok 
ing  all  the  saints.  I  let  it  pass  as  I  could  not 
help  myself.  If  I  had  let  her  be  punished,  it 
would  not  have  restored  the  vase.  I  only  begged 
her  to  hunt  for  it,  which  she  often  assured  me 
that  she  had  done,  but  that  it  must  have  been 
hidden  away  and  sold  secretly  to  some  pedler. 
Camilla,  you  have  dusted  everything  now  —  do 
not  make  any  more  noise.  I  am  wearied,  and  wish 
to  rest  —  go  now  !  " 

Camilla  disappeared  down  the  steps.  After  a 
little  while  she  came  upon  the  gallery  again  from 
outside  the  house,  half  covered  with  a  shawl,  and 
evidently  carrying  something.  Suddenly  she 
stood  before  the  Marchioness,  and  held  out  the 
guardabrisa,  safe  and  sound. 

"There  it  is,  my  lady  —  hidden  away  —  hid 
den  away;  but  I  have  found  it!  Much  cunning 
—  but  I'm  too  much  for  them."  She  laughed 
sardonically. 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  see  it  again,"  said  the  Mar 
chioness,  quietly.  "  I  have  no  doubt  you  hid  it 
yourself  two  years  ago  ;  put  it  on  the  buffet." 

"  Ave,  sanctissima  !  hid  it  myself  !  no,  indeed  ! 
hunted  everywhere  —  but  I  have  found  it !  " 

"  Where  did  you  find  it  ?  " 

"Ay  de  mi!  I  would  not  tell  —  much  punish 
ment,  poor  thing." 


SEWING.  363 

"Go  now,"  said  the  Marchioness,  "and  do  not 
come  back  till  dinner  time." 

Camilla  slowly  retired,  somewhat  crestfallen. 

"  You  see,  my  dear,  that  she  understands 
English.  Her  wits  do  sometimes  betray  her.  It 
was  not  a  lucky  moment  in  which  to  bring  it 
back."  She  did  not  go  on  to  say  that  she  pre 
sumed  Camilla  was  trying  to  involve  Juanita.  She 
thought  it  probable  she  would  hardly  have  dared 
to  play  the  trick  she  had  played  upon  Juanita  that 
morning,  if  she  had  been  present,  and  this  last 
she  did  say. 

"  I  am  afraid  you  must  forego  the  beautiful 
waist ;  there  will  not  be  time  to  work  another,  but 
the  rest  of  the  dress  is  finished,  and  a  pretty 
bertha  of  lace  will  cover  a  plainer  waist." 

"  Can  she  not  work  another,  if  not  quite  so 
much?"  said  Carolina,  pettishly.  Her  pity  was 
all  for  herself,  not  for  Juanita. 

"  Even  Camilla  thought  there  were  too  many 
stitches,"  said  Helen,  playfully,  hoping  to  disarm 
Carolina's  selfishness. 

"  I  have  no  doubt  the  old  thing  was  in  the  right 
about  one  thing,"  persisted  Carolina. 

The  Marchioness  rose  from  her  reclining  pos 
ture,  and  said  she  would  lie  down  alone  until  din 
ner,  and,  pale  and  exhausted,  she  left  the  gallery. 

"  You  will  look  quite  as  well  to  me  without  the 
worked  dress  as  with  it,"  said  Luclovico,  who  now 
appeared  and  heard  the  whole  story  from  Carolina. 


364  SEWING. 

He  keenly  felt  her  selfishness,  and  was  almost 
indignant  in  Juanita's  behalf ;  but  he  contented 
himself  with  expressing  his  dissent. 

"  Let  us  have  a  little  music,  now,"  he  said,  wish 
ing  to  change  the  subject. 

"No,  I  do  not  feel  like  it,"  said 'Carolina,  and 
she  walked  into  the  house  and  closed  the  door  of 
her  apartment  with  a  clap  that  thrilled  upon  Lu- 
dovico's  nerves. 

"  I  wonder  where  the  old  woman  could  have 
put  the  work?"  said  Ludovico  ;  "where  was 
Juanita  ? " 

"She  stood  near  that  door,"  said  Helen,  "and 
laid  her  work  upon  that  chair.  It  is  astonishing 
how  suddenly  it  disappeared." 

Ludovico  turned  the  chair  over.  It  had  a 
leather  seat.  There  was  a  slit  in  the  leather  at 
the  back  of  the  seat. 

"  I  wonder  if  she  could  have  tucked  it  in  there," 
he  said.  He  took  a  penknife  from  his  pocket,  and 
thrust  it  in,  and  drew  out  the  identical  bit  of  fine 
linen. 

"  Mumma  Camilla ! "  said  Ludovico  to  that 
functionary,  who  just  then  appeared  at  the  door 
of  her  pantry ;  "  I  have  found  the  place  where  you 
hid  Juanita's  work,  —  are  you  not  ashamed  of 
yourself  ? " 

"Ah,  pupil  of  my  eye!  I  hid  it!"  —laughs. 
"  Ave,  sanctissima,  not  I!  —  it  was  very  easy  to 
hide  it  —  poor  Juanita!  many  stitches  —  do  not 


SEWING.  365 

punish  her — young   people   foolish!     Ave,  sanc- 
tissima !  " 

"  Nothing  was  easier  than  for  you  to  tuck  it  in 
there.  Miss  Wentworth  says  that  was  the  chair 
Juanita  laid  the  work  upon.  It  is  you  who  ought 
to  be  punished !  It  must  have  been  you  that  hid 
it — we  all  know  you  very  well.  It  is  not  the  first 
time." 

Camilla  let  her  long  ape-like  arms  fall  at  her 
side,  then  covered  her  face  with  her  shawl,  and  fell 
into  a  fit  of  violent  weeping,  as  she  moved  slowly 
away,  and  the  more  willingly  as  she  heard  the 
Marquis  ascending  the  steps. 

"  I  wish  that  hateful  thing  was  not  in  the 
house,"  said  Ludovico. 

"  I  wish  so,  too  ;  but  your  mother  could  not  do 
without  her,  in  her  present  state  of  health,"  said 
Helen,  who  was  very  willing  to  call  Ludovico's 
attention  to  his  mother's  condition. 

"Where  is  mama?"  inquired  Ludovico,  as  if 
struck  with  a  sudden  thought. 

"  She  went  to  lie  down  by  herself  till  dinner 
time,  she  was  so  pained  by  Camilla's  behavior." 

Ludovico,  however,  softly  opened  his  mother's 
door,  which  led  from  the  hall,  and  Helen  hoped 
the  interview  would  be  a  soothing  one.  If  he  had 
known  how  much  she  had  been  pained  by  Caro 
lina,  perhaps  he  would  not  have  ventured  upon 
one  ;  but  they  spoke  only  of  Juanita  and  Camilla, 
and  the  mother  had  a  few  moments  of  happiness 


366  SEWIArG. 

in  her  son's  affectionate  caress.  He  restored  the 
work  to  Juanita  in  the  nursery,  and  she,  tco,  was 
made  momentarily  happy  by  his  kind  manner. 

At  the  Marchioness'  request,  nothing  was  said 
upon  the  subject  at  dinner,  which  Camilla  served 
with  swollen  and  downcast  eyes,  and  a  look  of 
injured  innocence.  The  jet  black  of  her  com 
plexion  prevented  her  from  looking  pale,  as  she 
would  undoubtedly  have  liked  to  do,  but  it  was 
amazing  to  see  what  a  look  of  injured  innocence 
she  could  put  on.  Indeed,  there  was  no  charac 
ter  which  her  genius  could  not  assume. 

When  the  women  had  gone  from  the  piazza,  the 
little  naked  plantation  children  came  skipping 
across  it  where  they  had  been  sitting,  just  as  a 
swarm  of  ants  gathered  upon  a  fruit  skin  that 
might  have  been  left  upon  the  floor. 

"These  children,"  said  Airs.  Warwick,  "are  sure 
to  pick  up  every  stray  knot  of  thread  or  dropped 
needle  or  end  of  tape,  after  the  sewing  is  over." 

"Why  should  not  they  be  taught  to  sew?"  said 
Helen,  to  whom  this  remark  was  addressed.  "  I 
should  like  to  teach  them  myself." 

"  Ah,  miss,  it  would  be  of  no  use  to  try,"  said 
Mrs.  Warwick.  "  I  tried  it  thoroughly,  when  I 
first  came  here,  though  the  Marchioness  told  me 
I  should  not  succeed,  —  that  they  would  like  it 
very  much  at  first,  but  they  would  soon  get  tired 
of  it,  and  begin  to  lose  their  needles.  I  was  so 
bent  upon  it,  however,  that  she  let  me  try,  and 


SEWING.  36? 

the  French  overseer,  who  was  a  kind-hearted  man, 
let  me  collect  them  together  on  the  piazza  of  his 
pavilion.  I  went  to  the  village  and  bought  fifty 
thimbles,  and  fairly  went  to  work  ;  but  it  was  just 
as  the  Marchioness  said,  —  they  did  not  like  to  be 
confined  long  enough  to  do  anything,  and,  as  I 
could  not  talk  to  them,  the  overseer  said  there 
was  no  way  but  to  whip  them  into  it.  That  was 
enough  for  me,  so  I  gave  it  up  in  despair." 

"But  I  can  talk  to  them,"  said  Miss  Went- 
worth,  "  and  I  never  yet  saw  the  children  that  I 
could  not  manage  by  telling  them  stories.  I  had 

a  class  in  the  African  Sunday-school  in  S , 

when  I  was  only  twelve  years  old,  and  I  found  the 
children  very  bright  and  teachable  even  then, 
and  still  more  when  I  was  older  and  could  talk  to 
them  better." 

"  But  the  children  here  don't  know  enough  to 
hitch  anything  to,"  said  Mrs.  Warwick. 

"  I  would  like  to  try,  nevertheless,"  persisted 
Helen. 

"  I  suppose  you  can,  if  you  wish  to,  and  it 
would  be  a  good  thing,  and  some  of  the  children 
are  very  docile,  but  they  are  all  as  wild  as  little 
animals.  I  tried  my  best  to  make  them  wear 
some  garment,  and  the  Marchioness  tried  that, 
too,  finding  how  disagreeable  it  was  to  me  to  see 
them  running  about  naked  ;  but  it  would  not  be 
an  hour  before  the  clothes  would  be  tucked  under 
a  bush,  or  hidden  somewhere  else.  They  found 


368  SEWING. 

it  much  more  comfortable  to  be  naked  in  this  hot 
climate,  and  you  could  not  get  the  first  idea  into 
their  heads  of  any  reason  why  they  should  wear 
them.  If  any  of  them  are  going  to  the  village  to 
be  baptized,  they  are  willing  enough  to  dress  up 
in  all  the  finery  their  mothers  can  find  for  them ; 
and  it  is  a  pretty  sight  to  see  them  then." 

"  What  idea  have  they  about  the  baptism,  do 
you  think  ?  " 

"  Oh,  none  whatever,  except  that  if  they  die 
they  can  then  be  buried  in  holy  ground,  and  that 
is  everything  to  a  Catholic." 

"  But  they  cannot  be  called  Catholics." 

"  Oh,  no,  not  with  any  meaning,  but  it  is  some 
thing  the  white  people  do." 

Helen  used  to  carry  flowers  into  her  Sunday- 
school  at  home,  and  show  pictures  to  the  children, 
and  she  could  imagine  many  ways  in  which  she 
might  interest  these  ;  but  the  Marchioness  was  too 
ill  to  be  consulted  about  it,  and  her  conferences 
with  Don  Andres  had  been  necessarily  checked. 

"  Honi  soit  qui  mal  y  pense." 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

DECEPTION. 

THE  next  day,  Carolina  proposed  a  ride  on 
horseback  with  Ludovico.  The  Marchioness  had 
feared  she  would  propose  calling  upon  Tulita,  and 
had  sent  to  inquire  for  her  health  in  the  morning, 
that  there  might  be  no  excuse  for  doing  so. 
Tulita  was  doing  well,  and  begged  to  see  them  ; 
but  Isabella  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  repeat 
the  invitation  in  the  family  circle. 

It  was  late  before  the  riders  returned.  They 
had  visited  many  beautiful  plantations,  the  gates 
of  which  are  always  opened  to  riders,  even  when 
they  are  strangers.  They  did  not  speak  of  seeing 
any  one  in  their  ride. 

But  Ludovico  was  not  happy  this  evening.  At 
nine  o'clock  the  family  assembled  round  a  little 
tea-table,  in  honor  of  American  customs,  for  tea- 
drinking  is  unknown  to  the  Spaniards,  who  do 
not  eat  in  the  evening,  the  Spanish  dining  hour 
being  late  in  the  day ;  and  when  guests  were  pres 
ent,  they  were  much  amused  with  this  evening 
meal,  which  was  always  light.  It  had  been  insti 
tuted  since  Helen's  arrival,  wholly  in  her  honor. 
Ludovico  would  fain  have  declined  to  sit  down 
*  369 


37°  DE  CEP  TION. 

with  the  rest  of  the  party,  but  Carolina  insisted. 
Helen  had  little  doubt  that  they  had  been  on  for 
bidden  ground,  because  of  their  unusual  silence, 
and  a  little  excitement  in  Carolina's  "manner  con 
firmed  her  suspicions.  She  rattled  away  more 
recklessly  even  than  usual  at  the  evening  meal. 

Helen  was  right.  Carolina  had  insisted  upon 
accepting  the  Countess'  urgent  invitation,  given 
the  morning  before,  while  she  sat  upon  her  horse 
at  her  door,  and  on  her  way  home  she  had  rallied 
Ludovico  for  his  gravity,  and  defied  him  to  tell 
his  mother.  It  was  the  first  time  any  one  had 
come  between  him  and  his  beloved  parent,  or 
turned  him  aside  from  his  life-long  allegiance  to 
her.  But  the  serpent  had  fascinated  him,  and 
more  than  once  the  baleful  influence  overcame 
him. 

He  had  turned  his  face  from  his  mother  and 
from  truth.  His  descent  was  rapid.  His  mother 
felt  it  deeply,  and  her  heart  sank  within  her. 
But  she  did  not  suspect  the  whole  truth  ;  she  had 
no  suspicion  that  he  would  so  far  forget  what  was 
due  to  Carolina's  position.  If  Ludovico  had  been 
a  girl,  he  would  have  known  the  impropriety  of 
the  step  ;  but,  as  it  was,  and  as  he  had  seen  no 
sisters  trained,  and  had  had  no  young  relatives 
to  be  restrained,  it  must  be  said  in  his  favor  that 
he  did  not  know  the  full  extent  of  the  indiscretion. 
If  he  had  persisted  in  being  frank  about  the  first 
visit,  as  he  wished  to  be,  the  indiscretion  could 


DECEPTION.  37 1 

easily  have  been  forgiven,  and  his  mother  would 
have  had  an  opportunity  of  giving  him  such 
instructions  as  might  have  been  a  safeguard  in 
future. 

"It  is  the  first  step  that  costs."  And  the  sad 
dest  misfortune  to  youth  is,  not  to  be  found  out 
in  these  first  downward  steps. 

But  "murder  will  out." 

One  morning,  among  other  guests  who  fre 
quented  the  attractive  circle  at  La  Consolacion, 
arrived  Tulita  with  her  father,  accompanied  by 
the  young  Count  of  Carova. 

If  the  earth  had  opened  under  Ludovico's  feet, 
he  could  not  have  been  more  dismayed  than  when 
Carova  greeted  Carolina  familiarly,  evidently  not 
a  stranger. 

The  Marchioness  was  sufficiently  chagrined  to 
see  Don  Miguel,  who  did  not  often  profane  her 
threshold.  Her  blood  always  chilled  at  the  sight 
of  him,  and  she  was  in  the  habit  of  going  to  see 
the  daughter  of  her  mother's  friend  only  during 
his  absence  on  the  slave-coast,  purposely  to  avoid 
him.  But  when  she  saw  the  evidence  that  Ludo- 
vico  and  Carolina  had  frequented  the  Countess  of 
Lopez'  mansion, — for  Carolina's  confusion,  as 
well  as  the  young  man's  manner,  were  as  plainly 
to  be  read  as  words,  —  her  cheeks  blanched,  and 
it  was  only  by  a  superhuman  effort  that  she  com 
manded  herself. 

The  mother's  solicitude  for  her  child's  reputa- 


372  DECEPTION. 

tion  acted  quick  as  thought,  and,  in  her  endeavor 
to  recover  herself,  she  welcomed  Don  Miguel 
more  cordially  than  she  would  otherwise  have 
done.  This  put  him  quite  at  ease,  and  the  light 
jest  went  round,  the  Spanish  suavity  of  the  com 
pany  dissolved  all  private  sentiments  in  a  melli 
fluous  flow  of  nothings  ;  and  it  was  not  till  the  last 
sonorous  farewell  was  sounded  from  the  volantes, 
and  responded  to  from  the  steps  of  the  piazza, 
that  Isabella  fell  heavily  upon  the  marble  floor. 

"Mama,  I  have  killed  you  !"  burst  from  Ludo- 
vico,  in  a  wild  cry  that  curdled  every  one's  blood. 

He  lifted  her  from  the  floor  and  bore  her  in  his 
arms  into  her  own  apartment.  All  was  terror  and 
astonishment  among  the  servants.  The  others 
knew  well  enough  what  it  all  meant.  When  Isa 
bella,  under  the  care  of  Helen  and  Mrs.  Warwick, 
opened  her  eyes  again,  Ludovico  bowed  his  head 
upon  her  hand,  and,  with  bitter  weeping,  begged 
her  forgiveness. 

"  Come,  Carolina,"  he  said  to  the  partner  of  his 
deception,  "come  and  beg  mama's  pardon  too." 

Carolina,  who  stood  a  little  apart,  pale  and 
trembling,  approached,  and,  bursting  into  tears, 
sank  down  by  Ludovico's  side.  She  was  thor 
oughly  frightened.  Yet  she  could  see  no  reason 
for  such  serious  apprehensions.  She  was  too 
ignorant  to  know  of  the  worldly  consequences 
that  might  possibly  ensue  from  what  she  had 
tempted  Ludovico  to  do,  and  it  never  occurred  to 


DECEPTION'.  373 

her  that  her  aunt  suffered  from  the  loss  of  her 
son's  confidence,  or  from  his  defection  from  truth ; 
for  she  had  not  had  the  sentiment  or  the  principle 
cultivated.  She  had  had  no  home,  no  mother  to 
watch  over  her  young  life.  A  fashionable  board 
ing-school  is  no  nursery  of  the  virtues.  Truth  of 
character  especially,  which  must  be  so  carefully 
guarded  and  often  so  carefully  instilled  into 
the  young,  is  frequently  destroyed  by  that  fear 
ful  ordeal,  Carolina  had  been  through  all  stages 
of  experience  in  her  boarding-school  life,  from 
the  time  when  she  was  made  the  instrument 
of  the  older  girls  to  obtain  hidden  pleasures,  and 
to  take  cake  and  sweetmeats,  up  to  that  when  she 
was  old  enough  to  carry  notes,  and  to  take  them 
from  the  post-office  under  false  names.  She  was 
always  favored  by  teachers,  for  she  was  wealthy 
and  pretty  and  piquant,  quick  to  learn  her  ap 
pointed  lessons,  and  ambitious  of  distinction  even 
in  the  school.  This  was  the  first  time  an  act  of 
her  own  had  frightened  her.  Fainting,  or  any 
semblance  of  death,  always  alarmed  her,  and  she 
was  ready  to  promise  anything  now. 

Ludovico  believed  all  her  protestations,  and 
accepted  all  her  excuses.  He  had  not  opposed 
her  with  sufficient  earnestness  to  make  any  moral 
impression,  and  he  took  all  the  blame  of  the 
impropriety  of  the  step  upon  himself.  His 
mother  was  satisfied  with  his  repentance,  but  she 
felt  the  shallowness  of  Carolina's,  and  grieved  that 


374  DECEPTION. 

his  fate  was  to  be  clouded  by  such  a  companion 
ship.      Indeed  she  could  not  be  consoled. 

The  Marquis  did  not  share  her  apprehensions. 
His  displeasure  was  expressed  in  no  measured 
terms  that  Ludovico  should  so  far  violate  the 
customs  of  society  as  to  take  an  unmarried  lady 
to  make  a  call  at  any  house,  but  he  did  not  feel 
the  moral  separation  from  his  son  which  had 
paled  the  check  and  made  heavy  the  heart  of 
Isabella.  Indeed  he  had  feared  that  Ludovico 
would  be  estranged  from  Cuban  life  too  much. 
The  alliance  was  too  valuable  a  one  to  be  lightly 
given  up,  and  Isabella  felt  that  she  must  hence 
forth  sorrow  alone.  Helen  alone  estimated  the 
significance  of  the  wasting  form  and  failing  step. 
In  that  climate  all  processes  of  nature  are  rapid  — 
that  of  decay  as  well  as  that  of  growth. 

Meantime,  the  preparations  for  the  wedding 
were  rapidly  progressing.  Carolina  was  wholly 
absorbed  in  the  thought  of  her  trousseau,  and  of 
the  gay  life  she  was  to  lead  in  the  city  during  the 
summer  rains,  which  would  be  so  dismal  in  the 
country.  The  plan  was  to  take  possession  of  her 
own  house  for  a  few  weeks,  receive  the  attentions 
of  her  neighbors,  and  then  make  the  desired  visit. 
The  seasons  are  so  imperative  in  that  climate 
that  delay  would  derange  all  their  plans,  and  Isa 
bella  would  not  suggest  any  modification  of  them 
on  her  own  account,  except  that  she  was  unable 
to  make  of  the  occasion  a  fiesta  such  as  is  usual 


DECEPTION.  375 

on  marriage  days  with  the  pleasure-loving  Span 
iards,  who  make  a  holiday  of  every  saint's  day  in 
the  calendar,  and  intensify  the  feast  whenever 
there  is  an  apology  for  so  doing. 

She  was  also  unable  to  continue  the  dissipated 
life  she  had  led  during  the  winter,  and,  as  Caro 
lina  could  not  go  out  alone,  she  was  obliged  to 
be  contented  with  the  ordinary  amusements  of 
home.  La  Consolacion  was  still  the  resort  of  all 
the  families  that  remained  in  the  neighborhood, 
and  domestic  dances,  tableaux,  drives,  and  arrivals 
of  goods  from  the  city  for  the  bride's  trousseau, 
occupied  the  time  of  the  young  people. 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

CONSEQUENCES. 

THE  wedding  shall  pass  undescribed.  It  was  a 
private  one,  owing  to  the  Marchioness'  state  of 
health,  and  the  young  people  went  to  their  splen 
did  abode. 

Carolina  was  a  married  woman  now,  and  no 
longer  needed,  she  thought,  protection  in  the  eye 
of  the  world.  The  Marchioness  saw  that  she 
needed  it  more  than  ever,  and  so  did  Ludovico. 

Why  should  not  the  Countess  of  Lopez  make 
early  calls  upon  the  new  married  couple  ?  She 
must  have  known  that  the  visits  Carolina  and 
Ludovico  had  made  upon  Tulita  were  unsanctioned 
visits.  She  had  not  been  invited  to  repeat  hers 
to  the  Marchioness,  and  even  the  visit  of  her 
young  friend  had  brought  no  interchange  of 
courtesies.  It  was  a  feather  in  the  Countess'  cap 
to  have  a  call  from  Ludovico,  for  the  Rodriguez 
were  people  of  character,  and  the  Countess  knew 
that  she  had  no  claim  to  that  distinction.  There 
was  no  doubt  that  she  would  make  the  best  of  her 
opportunity  to  get  back  so  far  into  the  society 
from  which  she  knew  suspicion  bad  partially  ban 
ished  her.  In  spite  of  the  horror  of  this  suspicion, 

376 


CONSEQ  UENCES.  377 

the  Marchioness  shrunk  from  her  less  as  a  mur 
derer  than  as  a  corrupter  of  the  morals  of  the 
young.  But  Carolina  was  exceedingly  tenacious 
of  her  own  prerogative,  and  to  every  gentle  remon 
strance  or  word  of  warning  tossed  her  pretty 
head,  and  replied,  "  I  am  a  married  woman  now." 

For  ten  days,  Carolina  was  overwhelmed  with 
visitors  and  invitations.  Fiestas  occupied  every 
evening.  The  Marchioness  attended  a  few  of 
these,  but  every  day  she  became  more  feeble,  and 
at  the  end  of  the  second  week  she  failed  so  rapidly 
that  every  one  was  alarmed.  Ludovico  rode  over 
every  morning  to  inquire  for  her,  but  Carolina's 
nights  were  turned  into  days,  and  therefore  her 
days  were  turned  into  nights. 

The  Marquis  wilfully  shut  his  eyes  to  his  wife's 
condition.  He  would  not,  could  not  see  it.  He 
too  was  anxious  for  his  son,  and  for  the  reputation 
of  his  son's  wife,  as  he  saw  them  mingle  in  society 
that  he  had  never  cultivated.  If  they  had  re 
mained  in  the  family  mansion,  he  might  have  con 
trolled  their  movements  in  a  degree,  but  Carolina 
had  resisted  his  urgent  invitation  to  do  so.  He 
did  not  mean  to  die  about  it,  however,  and  he 
would  not  think  that  Isabella  would  do  so. 

Helen  meant  to  have  returned  home  soon  after 
the  wedding,  for  it  was  important  to  go  sufficiently 
early  in  the  season  t(5  avoid  the  yellow  fever,  which 
infests  vessels  after  the  month  of  May.  But  she 
would  not  leave  her  friend  so  ill,  for  any  selfish 
reasons. 


378  COXSEQUEA'CES. 

One  evening,  as  Isabella  reclined  upon  her 
couch  on  the  piazza,  for  in  that  climate  invalids 
are  not  condemned  to  the  close  and  darkened 
chamber,  she  suddenly  exclaimed  to  Helen  :  — 

"  Will  you  take  my  little  girls  home  with  you  ? 
Manuel  must  stay  with  his  father." 

"  Isabella,  my  darling  !  " 

"  I  am  sorry  I  am  so  weak,  but  I  cannot  bear  it. 
She  has  killed  me,  dear.  Where  is  Hernando  ?  I 
I  cannot  see  you,  Helen  !  " 

Helen's  heart  stopped  beating.  Isabella's 
weakness  had  increased  rapidly  within  a  few 
days,  but  she  had  not  anticipated  this  sudden 
summons. 

Juanita  sat  at  the  window  of  the  inner  apart 
ment.  Helen  pronounced  her  name,  and  pointed 
to  the  door  of  the  Marquis'  apartment. 

Juanita  had  heard  Isabella's  remark,  and  flew  to 
open  it,  for  she  understood  the  look,  but  she  could 
not  speak. 

"\Vhat  is  the  matter?"  said  the  Marquis,  rush 
ing  by  her,  for  Juanita's  agony  was  in  her  face. 

"  Hernando,  dearest,"  said  Isabella,  opening 
her  eyes  as  he  knelt  by  her  couch,  and  she  made 
a  last  effort  and  threw  both  arms  around  his 
neck. 

The  next  moment  they  fell,  and  all  was  over. 
The  poor  Marquis  remained  upon  his  knees,  his 
gaze  riveted  on  Isabella's  face.  Not  a  sound 
escaped  him.  Juanita  fled  with  a  piercing  cry 


CONSEQUENCES.  379 

into  the  nursery,  from  which  Mrs.  Warwick  and 
the  children  burst  with  frantic  weeping.  All  was 
confusion  and  terror,  but  the  Marquis  still  gazed, 
and  as  he  gazed,  the  wan,  faded  look  on  the  once 
beautiful  face  passed  away  and  a  celestial  smile 
took  its  place.  Still  he  gazed,  and  gradually  all 
were  affected  by  the  spell  of  his  silence  ;  the  chil 
dren  nestled  close  to  him,  and  he  threw  his  arms 
around  them,  but  still  gazed  upon  the  wonderful 
spectacle  before  him.  They  were  all  hushed  at 
last  by  this  statue-like  gaze,  for  she  seemed  only 
sleeping.  At  last  he  suddenly  swayed  over  and 
laid  prostrate  on  the  floor.  The  terrified  children 
were  gathered  into  the  arms  of  Helen  and  Mrs. 
Warwick,  the  stricken  man  was  lifted  up  and  car 
ried  to  his  own  apartment,  to  which  Manuel  fol 
lowed  him  with  piercing  screams. 

"  See  how  beautiful  mama  is  now  she  is  an 
angel !  "  said  Helen  to  little  Pepita,  who  had  buried 
her  face  in  her  bosom,  for  she  felt  that  this  mo 
ment  was  the  one  in  which  to  take  away  the 
fearful  impression  of  death. 

"  May  I  kiss  mama,  nurse  ?  "  sobbed  Luisa. 

"  Yes,  darling ;  you  know  how  she  loved  you," 
said  Helen,  for  Mrs.  Warwick  was  speechless. 

"  And  I  too,"  said  dear  little  Pepita,  bending 
over  ;  "  she  loved  me  too.  Oh,  what  shall  I  do 
without  mama  ?  mama  !  mama  !  "  shrieked  the 
poor  child. 

"Mama  will  take  care  of  you  still  —  she  will  be 


38°  CONSEQUENCES. 

always  with  you,  darling,  though  you  cannot  see 
her.  She  is  an  angel  now  and  cannot  open  her 
earthly  eyes  any  more,  but  see  how  she  smiles 
upon  us.  She  is  very  happy  with  God.  One  of 
these  days  you  will  go  to  her." 

"  Oh,  I  want  to  go  now  !  mama !  mama !  I 
must  go  now,"  said  Luisa.  "  I  am  afraid  to  stay 
here  without  mama  !  " 

"  What !  and  leave  dear  papa  ?  " 

"  Oh,  where  is  papa  ?  "  said  Pepita.  "  I  must 
go  to  papa  !  "  and  she  struggled  out  of  Helen's 
arms  and  ran  to  his  room.  "  But  first  I  must  kiss 
mama  again  !  "  and  she  ran  back. 

Helen  followed  her  into  the  Marquis'  apartment, 
the  door  of  which  stood  open,  and  lifted  her  upon 
the  bed.  Manuel  was  nestled  close  to  his  father, 
with  his  face  hidden,  his  little  form  in  a  convul 
sion  of  sorrow.  Little  Pepita,  the  Marquis' 
favorite,  was  drawn  to  the  other  side,  and  Helen 
left  them  together  and  returned  to  Luisa,  for  she 
felt  sure  there  could  be  no  ministration  as  sweet 
as  theirs. 

Gradually  she  soothed  Luisa,  whose  passionate 
nature  made  sorrow  dangerous,  and  whose  vivid 
imagination  needed  to  be  led  into  pleasant  pas 
tures  and  by  living  waters. 

Ludovico  came.  His  pale,  haggard  face  startled 
Helen. 

"It  is  I — I  killed  her.  Mother!  mother!" 
and  he  knelt  down  and  laid  his  head  on  the  bosom 
that  had  so  loved  him. 


CONSEQ  UENCES.  3  8  r 

Luisa  burst  into  a  fresh  paroxysm  of  grief,  and 
Helen  forcibly  drew  her  away,  that  the  poor  boy 
might  have  no  witness  to  his  anguish.  And  she 
kept  others  away  yet  a  little  while  from  both 
apartments,  for  she  judged  even  herself,  near  and 
dear  as  they  were  to  her,  an  intruder  upon  the 
sacredness  of  that  sorrow.  Luisa  wandered  in  to 
her  father,  who,  when  all  were  gone  but  his  own, 
rose  to  look  again  upon  the  celestial  countenance 
of  his  beloved  wife.  Its  radiant,  heavenly  calm, 
soothed  them  all  at  last.  Was  it  not  the  conscious 
spirit  that  illuminated  the  form  at  will  ?  The 
heart  answers  the  question  in  the  affirmative, 
surely. 

Helen  found  Juanita  prostrate  upon  her  own 
little  bed,  and  with  a  despairing  look  on  her 
beautiful  features,  that  went  to  her  very  heart. 
She  had  lost  her  friend  and  protectress.  Helen 
in  vain  tried  to  rouse  her.  The  wailings  of  the 
other  servants,  whose  grief  was  sincere  perhaps, 
but  superficial,  were  less  piteous  than  the  silent 
despair  of  this  poor  child  of  the  sun.  Her  devo 
tion  to  the  Marchioness  had  been  wholly  self-for 
getting.  She  had  never  left  her  at  night  since 
her  strength  had  begun  to  fail,  but,  whoever  else 
might  watch,  she  had  insisted  upon  sleeping  on 
the  floor,  and  was  always  awake  to  serve  her. 
Helen  was  sure  that  she  had  shared  her  apprehen 
sions  of  the  final  result,  but  presumed  she  was  as 
much  shocked  as  herself  at  the  suddenness  of  the 
death. 


CONSEQUENCES. 

She  wound  her  arms  round  the  poor  girl  and 
whispered  :  — 

"If  I  take  —  the — little  —  girls  with  me,  per 
haps  you  can  go  with  me  too." 

Juanita  started  and  returned  her  caress  gently, 
then  fell  back  with  a  low  cry,  and  tears  burst  from 
her  closed  eyelids.  Helen  was  glad  to  see  them 
flow,  and,  laying  her  head  by  Juanita's,  she  gave 
way  at  last  to  her  own  sorrow. 

But  that  low  cry  which  was  wrung  from  Juan 
ita's  heart,  haunted  her  long  after,  for  it  meant 
much  that  only  Helen  suspected.  She  looked 
upon  the  slave  as  a  being  endowed  with  affections 
like  her  own,  and  she  had  suffered  enough  in  her 
own  right  to  carry  the  touchstone  of  the  hidden 
woes  of  others. 

Helen  found  ample  occupation  in  her  care  of 
the  bereaved  children,  who  became  very  depen 
dent  upon  her  cheerfulness  for  power  to  bear  this 
great  sorrow. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

REPENTANCE. 

"  DEAR  Miss  Wentworth,  will  you  go  to  Caro 
lina,  and  stay  with  her  till  I  come  to-morrow?" 
pleaded  Ludovico,  when  the  motherless  children 
were  all  soothed  to  sleep.  "  Mrs.  Warwick  will 
take  care  of  the  children,  and  I  wish  to  stay  here 
to-night  —  I  cannot  leave  papa.  Will  you  go?  " 

"Certainly  I  will.      Shall  I  go  now  ?" 

"  The  volante  is  ready,  and  I  prefer  that  Caro 
lina  should  not  come  over  here  to-night.  Papa 
could  not  see  her.  He  can  scarcely  bear  to 
see  me." 

Helen  lost  no  time  in  preventing  the  possibility 
of  Carolina's  arrival. 

She  found  her  in  the  midst  of  gay  company, 
who  were  only  awaiting  the  arrival  of  her  husband 
to  take  their  leave,  as  it  was  hardly  courteous  to 
leave  her  alone,  and  he  had  apologized  for  absent 
ing  himself  in  order  to  inquire  for  his  mother. 
Carolina  was  always  terrified  by  the  word  death. 
She  had  never  set  her  own  house  in  order,  in  ref 
erence  to  that  event.  Her  half-Catholic,  half- 
Protestant  education  —  for  the  former  mode  of 
faith  had  been  kept  up  by  request  during  her 

383 


REPENTANCE. 

school  life — had  resulted  in  a  confused  mingling 
of  ideas  upon  the  subject,  both  of  this  life  and  the 
future  one. 

She  was  therefore  glad  to  see  Helen,  and  to  be 
released  from  joining  her  husband,  though  Helen 
was  no  special  favorite  of  hers.  Helen  told  her 
all  she  needed  to  know,  but  she  thought  it  best  to 
leave  Ludovico  to  give  his  own  account  of  his 
mother's  rapid  decline. 

Juanita  had  begged  permission  to  pass  the  night 
in  the  apartment  of  her  beloved  mistress.  It  was 
late  when  she  was  left  to  her  watch,  and  Ludovico 
did  not  know  of  the  arrangement.  After  bidding 
his  father  good-night  at  his  own  bedside,  he  stole 
back  to  weep  once  more  in  solitude  over  that 
beloved  form. 

In  the  bitterness  of  the  experience  through 
which  he  had  passed,  Ludovico  had  learned  to 
feel  a  new  sympathy  for  his  mother.  Before  his 
love  and  marriage,  his  life  had  passed  in  a  happy 
unconsciousness  of-  any  want  of  harmony  in  her 
domestic  relations  ;  but,  when  he  looked  at  the 
ashes  of  his  own  hopes  and  dreams,  he  became 
sensitive  to  the  relations  of  others.  The  fearful 
features  of  slavery  that  had  transpired  to  Miss 
Wentworth  had  made  him  feel  that  there  was  no 
one  to  whom  his  mother  could  fully  unbosom  her 
self;  and  he  often  had  longed  to  tell  her  of  all  his 
disappointments  and  regrets,  and  to  assure  her 
that  she  could  confide  in  him  without  fear  of  hurt- 


REPENTANCE.  385 

ing  his  feelings,  as  she  might  be  doing  to  those  of 
her  husband  But  the  occasion  had  been  neg 
lected,  and  he  could  only  say  to  himself,  "  Too 
late!  too  late!" 

When  a  son  ceases  to  be  in  the  attitude  of  a 
child  who  must  be  reproved,  if  need  be,  his  inter 
course  with  his  mother  gradually  becomes  signally 
like  that  of  a  lover,  with  only  this  difference,  that 
the  confidence  is  more  unwavering  —  that,  what 
ever  may  be  the  mood  of  the  moment,  or  the 
apparent  neglect  growing  out  of  the  very  assur 
ance  of  love,  no  suspicion  of  love's  alteration 
occurs ;  whereas,  between  lovers,  even  after  mar 
riage,  there  is  always  a  sensitiveness  in  each  party 
lest  the  other,  just  in  proportion  as  his  or  her 
ideal  becomes  more  fair,  may  see  a  discrepancy  or 
want.  Conjugal  love  needs  to  be  fed  continually 
by  sweet  assurance  of  appreciation,  but  the 
parental  and  filial  sentiments  are  based  upon  a 
life-long  knowledge,  and  identity  of  fibre  which 
precludes  all  fear.  Ludovico  had  left  his  mother's 
side  to  cleave  to  that  of  his  wife,  and  in  that 
natural  act  there  was  no  implication  of  want  of 
affection  ;  but,  in  this  instance,  all  sympathy  with 
the  wife  had  long  ceased,  and  he  often  had  left  his 
mother's  side  with  regret.  In  this  terrible  mo 
ment,  he  felt  that  she  might  not  have  understood 
his  reticence,  which  was  purely  for  her  sake,  and 
that  she  might  have  supposed  his  heart  was  in  the 
gay  and  reckless  career  which  his  wife  led  him.  He 


3^6  REPENTA  NCE. 

could  only  ejaculate  to  himself:  "She  knows  me 
now !  she  knows  me  now  !  She  must  see  me, 
know  me,  but  would  to  God  I  were  sure  of  it  !  " 
He  was  unaware  that  there  was  any  other  person 
present  when  he  threw  himself  into  the  boutacle 
which  his  mother  always  occupied  in  that  room. 

When  his  first  paroxysm  of  bitter  weeping  had 
subsided,  he  heard  a  suppressed  breathing  that 
made  him  start  from  the  chair.  For  one  second 
he  thought  it  was  his  mother,  but  the  next  he  saw 
Juanita  sitting  on  a  footstool  with  her  head  on  the 
bed  beside  her. 

A  few  ciirculios  in  a  gourd  gave  a  fitful  light 
as  they  beat  their  wings  against  their  prison 
walls. 

She  looked  up  as  he  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"  Juanita !  I  did  not  know  you  were  here  !  how 
you  startled  me  !  " 

"  Where  else  should  I  be  ?  "  was  her  sad  reply. 

"Juanita!  dear  Juanita!  how  can  I  ever  repay 
you  for  your  care  of  my  dear,  dear  mother  ?  Ah  ! 
God,  forgive  me !  how  I  neglected  her,  and  you 
who  are  not  her  child,  how  you  have  watched 
over  her,  nursed  her,  wearied  yourself  out  with 
her,  when  I  seemed  to  be  amusing  myself  with 
what  my  heart  hated  !  Why  did  you  not  tell  me 
she  was  dying,  Juanita  ?  Did  you  know  it  ?  Do 
you  think  I  should  have  gone  on  dancing  and 
singing  if  I  had  known  it  ?  Do  you  think  she 
thought  me  neglectful  ?  Won't  you  speak  to  me, 


REPENTANCE.  387 

Juanita?  you  used  to  love  me,  dear  Juanita  —  speak, 
or  I  shall  go  mad." 

"  She  never  said  so,"  sobbed  Juanita. 

"  No,  but  that  means  that  she  thought  so,  and 
it  was  true.  Don't  you  think  so?  you  must  talk 
to  me,  Juanita  !  " 

And  with  these  words  he  seized  her  round  the 
waist  and  drew  her  forcibly  up  to  him. 

She  flung  him  from  her. 

"  What  if  I  should  tell  you  yes  ?  would  it  make 
you  feel  any  better  ? "  she  said,  in  a  hollow  voice. 
Ludovico  uttered  a  cry  of  agony,  and  staggered  to 
a  seat. 

Juanita  sprang  towards  him,  and  seized  his 
hands. 

"  Cruel !  cruel !  "  was  all  he  could  say. 

"  Why  did  you  ask  me  ?  She  never  said  so,  but 
you  did  neglect  her  wishes,  Ludovico.  She  saw 
that  you  had  no  thought  but  for  one ;  and  she  did 
not  love  her;  you  know  she  did  not." 

"  I  know  !  I  know  !  Oh  God  !  my  mother !  my 
mother  !  "  And  again  he  started  to  his  feet,  and 
paced  the  room  wildly ;  then  stopped  short  before 
the  trembling  girl. 

"  Juanita !  you  loved  me  once  !  can  you  ever  love 
me  again  ?  I  am  not  worth  your  loving,  or  any 
one's  loving.  Oh,  my  mother  !  my  mother  !  Juanita, 
what  are  you  going  to  do  ?  Come  and  live  with 
me  !  —  I  will  take  care  of  you  !  Do  you  want  your 
freedom  ?  What  shall  I  do  for  you  ?  You  were 


REPENTANCE. 

my  mother's  child,  and  I  was  not.  Juanita,  what  do 
you  wish  ? " 

"  My  freedom !  what  good  would  that  do  me 
now  ?  Where  could  I  go  with  my  freedom  ?  Oh,  I 
want  to  die.  That  is  the  only  freedom  I  can  have. 
I  have  nothing  to  live  for  now  ;  I  am  worse  off  than 
a  slave,  for  I  am  more  wretched  than  any." 

"  You  are  a  slave,  Juanita,  it  is  true  enough  ; 
but  there  is  no  justice  in  heaven  if  you  must 
always  be  one.  Come  and  live  with  me  —  I  will 
take  care  of  you." 

"Your  wife  will  never  wish  me  to  do  that,"  said 
Juanita,  bitterly.  "  She  hates  me  now.  In  the 
sight  of  God  I  am  as  free  as  you  are,  even  accord 
ing  to  your  own  wicked  laws.  My  ancestors  were 
not  slaves.  They  were  free  in  their  own  land, 
and  here  they  were  emancipados,  and  so  are  many 
others  who  are  called  slaves,  though  they  do  not 
know  it.  My  soul  has  always  been  free.  The 
money  that  bought  my  grandmother  was  perjured 
money,  for  she  was  free  when  she  touched  this 
island,  by  your  own  laws.  She  planted  the  seeds 
of  freedom  in  the  heart  of  my  mother,  and  my 
mother  planted  them  in  mine.  She  thought  the 
day  might  come  when  justice  would  be  done.  But 
it  will  never  be  done.  Give  me  my  form  of  free 
dom  if  you  can,  and  I  will  take  care  of  myself. 
Perhaps  I  can  find  my  poor  brother  —  he  vowed 
he  would  get  his  freedom  or  die.  Take  me  away 
from  here  —  I  will  take  care  of  myself." 


REPENTANCE.  3^9 

"  You  would  not  forsake  me,  Juanita  !  " 

"  Forsake  you  !  you  have  friends  enough  —  a  wife 
to  love  you." 

"  Hush,  for  God's  sake,  hush  !  " 

He  approached  her  and  whispered,  "  She  does 
not  love  me,  Juanita.  She  does  not  know  how  to 
love  any  one  but  herself.  She  is  incapable  of 
devotion  to  me  or  to  any  one." 

Juanita  placed  her  finger  on  his  lips. 

"  Yes,  I  must  not  say  it,  I  know  ;  but  I  will  say 
it  to  you,  for  you  are  capable  of  devotion,  you  can 
love  me.  You  are  my  best  friend.  I  have  neg 
lected  you.  She  has  ill-treated  you.  She  never 
shall  have  a  chance  to  do  it  again.  If  I  had  known 
you  wanted  to  be  free,  I  would  have  gone  clown 
on  my  knees  to  get  your  freedom.  I  hate  this 
life;  I  hate  slavery  more  every  day.  If  you  had 
not  been  a  slave,  you  would  have  been  my  wife 
perhaps  —  how  I  wish  you  were  !  " 

Juanita  sank  at  his  feet,  and  clasped  his  knees. 

"  Take  me  with  you  —  I  will  serve  you  always  ! 
even  if  I  am  free,  but  let  me  be  free  so  that  I  may 
not  do  it  as  a  slave,  and  then  she  cannot  treat  me 
ill." 

"  You  shall  go  home  with  Miss  Wentworth  if 
you  wish  to,"  said  Ludovico,  for  he  saw  at  a  glance 
the  desolate  position  of  the  poor  girl  —  "  and  you 
shall  go  a  free  woman  —  " 

When  she  found  herself  alone,  Juanita  threw 
open  the  broad  shutter  to  cool  her  burning  brow. 


39°  REPENTANCE. 

The  rich  moonlight  poured  into  the  room,  and  who 
can  interpret  the  thoughts  that  poured  through 
that  distracted  brain,  as  she  gazed  long  and  in 
tently  at  the  broad  disc  of  the  beautiful  moon,  in 
which  so  many  hearts  have  been  sown  ! 

Morning  dawned  as  she  stood  there,  and  at 
the  sound  of  a  footstep  she  started,  and  returned  to 
her  watch. 

The  angelic  light  had  faded  from  the  counte 
nance,  now  rigid  and  cold  in  death  ;  Juanita  shud 
dered. 

Ludovico  returned  in  the  morning  for  Helen 
and  Carolina,  and  a  long  train  of  mourners  at 
tended  the  Marchioness  to  her  temporary  resting- 
place  in  the  village  graveyard,  to  be  removed  at  a 
future  time  to  the  proud  tomb  of  the  Rodriguez  in 
the  cemetery  of  Havana. 

It  was  not  a  common  occasion  in  the  neighbor 
hood,  for,  though  vice  was  winked  at,  virtue  is 
honored  everywhere,  even  there. 

Wearily  to  all,  the  season  of  mourning  passed 
away.  To  Carolina  it  was  only  a  privation  that 
tried  her  temper,  and  brought  out  more  strikingly 
her  innate  selfishness.  Ludovico  did  not  reproach 
her,  but  neither  did  he  express  an  affection  he  had 
ceased  to  feel.  He  was  wholly  disenchanted,  and 
could  with  difficulty  summon  resolution  to  meet 
the  frivolous  companions  of  Carolina's  summer 
hours. 

The  Countess  of  Lopez  was  her  frequent  guest. 


RE  PENT  A  NCE.  39 1 

Ludovico  did  not  attempt  to  oppose  Carolina  upon 
this  point.  He  was  resolved  to  live  no  longer  in 
Cuba  if  he  could  persuade  his  father  to  go  abroad, 
and  that  matter  would  take  care  of  itself.  The 
Countess  was  too  much  a  woman  of  the  world  not 
to  read  a  character  of  Ludovico's  simplicity,  and 
took  care  not  to  intrude  herself  into  his  presence, 
but  she  came  at  the  hours  he  devoted  to  his  father. 
The  Marquis  gave  himself  up  exclusively  to  his 
children,  and  their  innocent  prattle  gradually  won 
him  from  the  depths  of  his  first  sorrow.  To  his 
children  alone  did  he  ever  speak  of  their  dear 
mother.  He  grieved,  when  it  was  too  late,  that  he 
had  so  rashly  committed  the  happiness  of  Ludovico 
to  one  so  unworthy  to  fill  her  place.  The  father 
and  son  drew  nearer  together  than  even  in  the 
days  of  their  unbroken  happiness,  for  the  deeper 
suffering  of  disappointed  affection  made  Ludovico 
more  truly  wretched  than  even  the  bereaved 
husband  could  be,  whose  record  of  love  was  pure. 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

HOMEWARD    BOUND. 

IN  this  hour  of  crushing  bereavement,  Helen 
was  sustained  by  the  only  friend  she  had  yet  made 
in  the  island,  excepting  Isabella.  Don  Andres 
Torres  had  proved  not  only  the  humane  and  effi 
cient  overseer,  under  whose  rule  no  punishments 
were  necessary,  for  he  ruled  wisely  and  kindly, 
and  knew  how  to  hold  even  those  poor  souls  up  to 
some  sense  of  duty,  which  helped  also  to  make 
him  their  idol ;  but  he  was  the  honored  friend  of 
the  family,  and  both  the  Marquis  and  Ludovico, 
as  well  as  Helen,  had  leaned  upon  his  strong  arm. 
He  had  beguiled  many  an  hour  of  languid  suffer 
ing  to  the  invalid,  by  his  graphic  descriptions  of 
countries  visited,  and  by  his  sensible  criticisms 
of  men  and  things,  and  in  his  own  profession  he 
was  an  amateur,  and  had  the  rare  power  of  making 
his  hearers  see  with  him  the  beauty  of  the  archi 
tectural  masterpieces  of  the  world,  which  he  had 
carefully  studied  not  only  in  their  principles  but 
the  structures  themselves.  The  Basque  tribe  of 
the  Pyrenees,  of  which  he  was  one,  have  a  national 
education,  among  other  peculiarities  of  their  insti 
tutions,  which  raise  them  immeasurably  above 

392 


HOMEWARD  BOUND.  393 

all  other  Spanish  nationalities.  A  love  of  freedom 
characterizes  them  also,  which  would  only  throw 
them  by  accident,  as  in  this  instance,  into  the 
rank  of  overseers  in  a  slave-holding  community, 
but  Don  Andres  felt  bound  by  his  own  inward 
monitions  to  devote  himself  to  the  family  of  his 
benefactor,  and  this  was  the  only  way  in  which  he 
could  combine  that  duty  with  the  bettering  of  his 
fortunes,  which  had  now  become  necessary  for 
their  sakes.  He  filled  the  office  in  a  manner 
which  showed  that  a  good  man  can  make  himself 
useful  to  his  fellow-creatures  even  in  such  a  posi 
tion.  If  he  could  inspire  others  of  his  class  to 
labor  on  the  same  principles,  the  wretched  popula 
tion  of  the  plantations  might  by  degrees  be  fitted 
for  the  care  of  themselves.  This  subject  had 
often  been  discussed  with  him  in  the  family  of  the 
Marquis  of  Rodriguez,  but  there  were  difficulties 
in  Cuba,  where  the  slave-trade  was  in  such  active 
operation,  that  might  not  be  found  in  the  United 
States.  The  constant  succession  of  fresh  slaves, 
who  are  purchased  from  many  different  tribes, 
speaking  different  dialects  and  inheriting  different 
traditions,  makes  it  impossible  to  prepare  Cuban 
slaves  for  freedom,  except  by  training  them  in  the 
families  of  the  mountain  peasantry.  Another  dif 
ficulty  is  that  of  making  innovations  among  a 
people  so  nationally  ignorant  as  the  inhabitants  of 
the  Spanish  Colonies.  No  hope  of  such  a  change 
existed,  except  in  the  possibility  of  annexation  to 
the  United  States. 


394  HOMEWARD   BOUND. 

But  there  were  two  aspects  to  this  annexation. 
One  was  that  the  progress  of  society  would  event 
ually  destroy  slavery  in  a  land  whose  government 
was  based  on  freedom,  the  other,  and  this  was 
widely  entertained,  that  slavery  would  be  the  more 
firmly  secured,  but  that  its  condition  would  admit 
of  ameliorations  sooner  than  in  Cuba,  because  of 
the  general  superiority  of  the  masses  in  the  States, 
growing  out  of  the  idea  of  popular  education. 
Upon  the  whole,  it  was  rather  a  vague  notion  of 
benefit,  and  there  was  therefore  a  want  of  vitality 
in  it.  The  United  States  government  desired  the 
annexation  for  commercial  and  political  interests, 
but  these  advantages  would  be  accompanied  by 
many  evils,  and  thus  it  has  remained  for  the 
colonists  to  realize  the  weight  of  Spanish  greed 
before  anything  like  a  revolution  transpired. 

Since  this  narrative  was  written,  slavery  in  the 
United  States  has  been  abolished,  at  least  in  name, 
and  the  movement,  has  been  initiated  in  Cuba. 
Such  institutions  as  slavery  leave  their  traces  long 
and  deeply  scored  on  the  public  mind.  That  no 
human  being  can  legally  be  enslaved  again  in  our 
land  must  satisfy  us  for  the  present.  The  genera 
tion  that  has  been  in  slavery  must  pass  away 
before  its  traditions  can  make  it  possible  for  any 
thing  like  equality  to  exist,  but  may  we  not  justly 
hope  that  in  a  land  where  all  men  have  a  right  to 
education  and  to  the  enjoyments  of  their  own 
earnings,  the  day  may  come  when,  as  in  England, 


HOMEWARD  BOUND.  395 

whose  soil  has  never  been  polluted  by  slavery,  the 
mere  color  of  the  skin  will  be  no  bar  to  social 
equality.  Practically,  it  is  no  bar  to  the  affec 
tions.  The  basis  of  mutual  respect  will  alone 
elevate  the  inferior  race.  I  use  the  word  inferior 
in  a  popular  sense,  not  in  a  radical  one,  for  the 
natural  characteristics  of  the  colored  race  have 
more  affinity  with  what  we  call  the  Christian  graces 
than  those  of  the  one  whose  powerful  grasp  has  so 
long  held  it  in  bondage.  We  laugh  unreflectingly 
at  the  boast  we  sometimes  hear  from  the  colored 
race,  that  it  is  a  better  one  than  the  white  race.  If 
to  give  the  other  cheek  to  the  aggressor  is  a 
Christian  grace,  which  race  deserves  the  pre 
ponderance  in  that  Christian  forbearance  ?  Surely 
not  the  one  that  has  all  the  power. 

Helen  had  the  pleasure  of  often  hearing  the 
Spaniards  express  kindly  and  sympathetic  feelings 
for  the  slaves,  but  it  rested  there,  proving  only 
how  difficult  it  is  for  even  the  worst  institutions 
to  ruin  the  souls,  created  in  the  image  of  God,  by 
which  is  meant  endowed  with  his  attributes  of 
love  and  mercy. 

No  word  of  Don  Andres'  private  history  had 
ever  transpired  to  his  present  friend.  There  was 
in  him  a  certain  barrier  of  dignified  reserve  that 
guarded  him  from  all  inquiry.  But  Helen  often 
felt  that  it  would  melt  at  the  touch  of  a  friend 
ship  near  enough  to  be  an  assurance  of  confi 
dence,  and,  with  the  true  sensibility  and  delicacy 


HOMEWARD  BOUND. 

of  a  noble  woman,  she  avoided  lifting  a  veil  which 
might  admit  her  into  a  sanctuary  that  she  had  no 
right  to  invade,  and  which  it  would  therefore  be 
cruel  to  penetrate. 

The  Marquis  had  become  very  dependent  upon 
him,  and  Helen  rejoiced  to  leave  Ludovico  with 
so  wise  and  sympathizing  a  friend,  and  one  who 
entered  with  so  much  humanity  into  his  plans  for 
ameliorating  the  condition  of  his  sugar-plantation. 
If  he  could  not  educate  his  slaves,  he  could 
lighten  their  labors  by  the  introduction  of  the 
mills  worked  by  the  steam-engine  which  some 
American  planters  had,  with  Yankee  energy, 
brought  into  use  there.  The  standstill  Spaniards 
were  gradually  opening  their  eyes  to  the  advan 
tages  of  these  wonderful  innovations,  at  the  same 
time  that  they  swore  at  the  innovators  over  the 
lime  hedges.  And  they  had  already  borrowed 
them  in  many  instances. 

When  the  Marquis  spoke  with  Helen  of  the 
children,  he  could  only  say  that  he  could  not  yet 
part  with  them,  but  by  and  by  he  would  him 
self  take  them  to  Helen  and  place  them  under  her 
care  while  he  prosecuted  with  Ludovico  the  long 
projected  tour.  He  wished  him  to  shut  up  his 
house,  or  still  leave  it  under  the  care  of  Larimon  ; 
but  Carolina  objected  to  this  arrangement.  She 
knew  too  well  what  would  be  the  penalties  under 
the  firm  rule  of  her  uncle. 

Carolina's  ennuyed  neighbors  were  only  too  glad 


HO  ME  IV ART)  BOUND.  S97 

for  a  place  of  resort,  and  came  to  her  in  ox-carts 
when  the  mud  was  too  deep  for  other  vehicles  and 
more  slender-legged  animals  than  the  sturdy  oxen. 
Carolina  was  not  unwilling  that  Ludovico  should 
absent  himself  on  such  occasions,  for  his  deep 
melancholy  was  neither  understood  nor  sympa 
thized  with  by  her  shallow  companions. 

Ludovico  turned  his  attention  now  to  the  con 
dition  of  his  "  people,"  and  succeeded  in  interest 
ing  his  father  upon  the  subject.  He  could  not  set 
them  free  nor  forsake  a  slave-holder's  life  without 
the  concurrence  of  Carolina,  but  he  could  make 
less  sugar  rather  than  waste  the  lives  of  his  slaves, 
or  kill  off  their  children  by  unnatural  labors. 

It  was  necessary  now  to  facilitate  Helen's  de 
parture  before  the  roads  became  impassable  by  the 
summer  rains,  or  the  yellow  fever  infested  the 
vessels.  The  Marquis  accompanied  her  to  the 
city.  Don  Andres  had  hoped  this  escort  might 
devolve  upon  himself,  for  to  him  Helen's  depar 
ture  was  as  the  withdrawal  of  the  sun  from  the 
heavens.  But  the  Marquis  could  not  so  far  for 
get  what  was  due  to  his  wife's  friend  as  to  allow 
such  a  departure  from  established  customs,  and, 
placing  Helen  in  one  volante,  with  Mrs.  Warwick 
to  matronize  her,  he  took  another  himself,  leaving 
Ludovico  to  preside  over  the  nursery,  and  at  day 
break  they  left  the  plantation. 

Don  Andres  was  in  waiting  at  the  great  gate, 
which  he  opened  for  the  travellers.  Helen  held 


398  HOMEWARD  BOUND. 

out  her  hand  to  him,  which  he  reverently  kissed. 
"  God  be  thanked  that  I  have  known  you  !  "  were 
his  parting  words.  "  I  ask  nothing  more  of  him  !  " 
he  added,  after  a  moment's  pause. 

Helen  could  not  answer  them,  but  her  tearful 
eyes  assured  him  that  she  valued  his  regard  and 
respected  his  reserve,  which  she  had  never  given 
him  an  opportunity  to  break. 

"That  man  is  out  of  place  here,"  said  Mrs. 
Warwick,  after  they  had  left  the  plantation  en 
tirely  behind  them. 

"  A  good  man  is  always  in  place,"  said  Helen, 
"  and  I  think  the  poor  slaves  would  hardly  agree 
with  you." 

"  Indeed,  they  would  not ;  it  is  a  happy  day  for 
them.  I  could  not  stay  there  alone,  if  he  were 
not  to  be  there." 

It  was  the  Marquis'  purpose  to  send  his  little 
daughter,  and  probably  Manuel,  with  Mrs.  Warwick, 
to  Helen's  care,  in  the  fall,  and  then  to  accompany 
his  son  to  France.  Helen  had  petitioned  that 
Juanita  might  be  sent  with  them,  and  this  re 
quest  was  readily  acceded  to.  Helen  was  happy 
to  be  able  to  inform  Juanita  of  this  arrangement 
before  she  left  her.  She  also  spoke  of  it  to  Ludo- 
vico,  who  gladly  assented,  and  expressed  himself  so 
well  pleased,  indeed,  that  Helen  was  sure  he  would 
promote  it  when  the  hour  of  fulfilment  came.  She 
commended  Juanita  most  earnestly  to  the  care  of 
Mrs.  Warwick,  who  promised  to  shield  her  from 
harm  to  the  best  of  her  power. 


HOMEWARD  BOUND.  399 

It  was  a  sad  day  for  the  little  girls  when  they 
parted  with  their  kind  friend,  but  the  promised 
visit  filled  their  imaginations  with  delight.  Helen 
was  confident  they  would  be  tenderly  watched 
over  by  their  father,  and  of  Mrs.  Warwick's  de 
votion  there  could  not  be  a  suspicion.  She  re 
joiced  that  Carolina  was  to  remain  in  her  own 
house,  for  her  influence  could  be  only  baleful. 

When  they  arrived  in  Havana,  the  Marquis  re 
mained  but  an  .hour  in  the  house  of  the  friend  who 
received  them,  and  with  fresh  horses  immediately 
left  the  city,  for  fear  of  heavy  rains  that  might  de 
tain  him  from  his  family,  to  which  Mrs.  Warwick 
was  also  too  important  to  remain  absent  more 
than  a  single  day. 

A  hurried  visit  to  Dona  Lucia  and  Tulita  re 
vealed  the  fact  to  Helen  that  Tulita  had  been  se 
cretly  married  to  the  young  Count  of  Carova 
since  her  visit  to  the  country.  The  word  "  se 
cretly  "  is  not  perhaps  the  appropriate  one  here, 
for  the  ceremony  had  taken  place  in  the  Gover 
nor's  mansion,  and  under  his  own  eye  and  sanction. 
The  young  man  knew  that  his  father  would  not 
consent  to  his  marriage  with  the  daughter  of  the 
slaver  while  there  was  a  chance  left  that  his  title 
might  make  him  acceptable  to  a  more  respectable 
match  ;  but  the  son  had  tried  his  fortunes,  too  often 
with  other  offers  to  be  willing  to  relinquish  this 
prospect  of  wealth,  and  the  Governor-General  has 
power  to  sanction  stolen  marriages  when  he  thinks 


4°°  HOMEWARD  BOUND. 

fit.  The  Count's  father  had  sorely  offended  him 
once,  and  when  the  young  man  represented  the 
wealth  he  should  enjoy  by  the  alliance  —  and  no 
one  knows  what  more  substantial  interests  of  his 
own  might  be  added,  for  why  is  not  the  bribe  of  a 
Castilian  noble  as  respectable  as  the  blood-money 
of  a  slave?  —  his  petition  was  granted.  The  irre 
proachable  character  of  the  lady  could  not  be 
gainsaid,  and  the  opportunity  of  revenge  on  the 
part  of  the  Governor-General  was  not  to  be  lost. 

But  neither  Dona  Lucia  nor  Tulita  was  happy. 
They  had  been  unwilling  parties  to  the  marriage, 
strange  as  it  may  appear.  Tulita's  confidence  in 
the  young  Count's  affection  had  been  destroyed 
during  her  visit  to  the  country,  which  her  father 
had  favored  for  the  sake  of  securing  the  match  for 
his  daughter ;  but  Dona  Lucia  was  too  good  a 
mother  to  wish  for  such  a  connection.  Nor  was 
the  object  yet  attained  of  forcing  Tulita  into  the 
aristocratic  circles  of  the  city,  for  as  yet  the  old 
Marquis  had  refused  to  receive  her.  It  was^  not 
probable,  till  the  young  Count  should  inherit  his 
title,  that  Tulita  would  attain  the  position  for 
which  her  father  had  sacrificed  her  happiness. 

Helen  was  glad  to  bid  adieu  to  the  unhappy 
mother  and  daughter  and  the  dissipated  husband, 
who  evidently  felt  himself  made  of  a  superior 
stratum  of  the  clay  which  covers  this  mundane 
sphere.  But  the  money  of  the  slaver  was  as  good 
as  the  money  of  nobles,  to  pay  for  wines,  horses, 


HOMEWARD  BOUND.  4°l 

operas,  and  the  debts  incurred  at  the  gambling- 
table.  In  such  states  of  society  as  exist  in  the 
Spanish  colonies,  the  heart  is  the  last  thing  to  be 
consulted  in  marriage.  Even  the  titled  leper,  a 
form  of  humanity  not  rare  in  Cuba,  can  command 
a  beautiful  and  a  wealthy  wife,  for  raisons  de  con- 
venance,  as  the  French  phrase  expresses  marrying 
for  an  establishment  or  a  title. 

But  the  pure  ocean  would  soon  roll  between 
her  and  this  corruption,  and  she  was  still  under 
the  delusion  that  her  own  country  was  free  from 
it.  She  knew,  however,  that  the  giant  form  of 
Caste  had  not  been  exorcised  from  the  most  ad 
vanced  state  of  human  brotherhood  that  yet  ex 
isted  ;  but  her  heart  bounded  at  the  thought  of 
returning  to  a  society  founded  upon  the  theory  of 
equality  in  human  rights,  and  in  which  a  more 
equal  culture  had  already  begun  to  establish  an 
equality  in  social  privileges.  Our  ideals  go  before 
us,  ever  beckoning  on  ;  and,  in  spite  of  her  late  ex 
perience,  her  faith  was  still  unshaken  that  the 
influence  of  that  theory  would  filter  through  the 
lowest  depths  of  evil,  even  to  slavery  itself,  the 
"sum  of  all  villanies."  A  little  leaven  leaveneth 
the  whole  lump. 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

DISSIPATION. 

WHEN  the  season  of  mourning  had  passed  away, 
which  custom  in  Cuban  life  fixes  at  six  months, 
Carolina  threw  off  her  sable  dress,  and  launched 
again  into  the  dissipations  of  plantation  life. 
Ludovico  found  it  necessary  to  follow  her  into 
these  gay  scenes,  but  it  was  with  such  an  altered 
mien  that  every  one  remarked  the  change.  It 
seemed  as  if  all  whom  he  met  sympathized  in  his 
sorrow,  except  his  thoughtless  wife,  who,  disap 
pointed  of  her  city  visit,  determined  to  compensate 
herself  by  making  the  most  of  country  pleasures. 
Even  the  Countess  of  Lopez  had  deserted  her  in 
the  heavy  rains,  and  left  her  to  the  society  ef  a 
few  families  who  could  not  afford  to  solace  the 
tedious  months  of  bad  weather  in  the  city.  But 
that  lady  now  returned  to  her  plantation  with  a 
retinue  of  visitors,  and  music  and  dancing  were 
the  order  of  the  day,  as  well  as  of  the  evening. 
The  Marquis  did  not  come  out  of  his  solitude  ex 
cept  to  accompany  Ludovico  in  the  superinten 
dence  of  his  plantation,  and  so  highly  had  the 
Marchioness  been  respected  that  no  one  intruded 
at  present  upon  his  retirement. 

402 


DISSIPA  TION.  4O3 

Juanita  devoted  herself  to  the  children,  whom 
Ludovico  often  visited,  and  to  whom  he  endeav 
ored  partially  to  fill  the  place  of  that  tender 
mother  whom  they  so  fondly  loved  and  remem 
bered.  He  was  glad  to  have  them  remain  at  home 
for  a  time,  that  this  memory  might  not  be  oblit 
erated  by  new  scenes,  as  well  as  for  his  own 
solace. 

Carolina  had  never  shown  the  least  interest  in 
them,  and  was  now  too  much  occupied  with  her 
independent  pleasures  to  give  them  either  her 
time  or  her  thoughts.  She  could  hardly  find 
leisure  to  dwell  upon  her  own  expectations  of  be 
coming  a  mother,  and  when  she  did  think  of  it,  it 
was  only  with  a  vague  terror,  and  this  dread  made 
her  rush  more  recklessly  than  ever  into  dissipa 
tion.  Mrs.  Warwick  once  ventured  to  give  her 
a  friendly  warning,  and  even  suggested  that  she 
should  make  La  Consolation  her  home  for  the 
winter,  that  she  might  take  care  of  her,  but  Caro 
lina  preferred  to  take  her  chance  with  old  Celia 
rather  than  submit  to  the  comparative  solitude 
to  which  a  winter  at  La  Consolation  would  con 
demn  her. 

Carolina  could  not  resist  the  temptation  of  at 
tending  the  first  village  ball  of  the  holidays,  and 
on  her  way  home  was  suddenly  taken  ill  and 
brought  to  La  Consolation,  which  was  on  the  way 
to  her  own  residence.  Before  morning  she  was 
the  mother  of  a  daughter,  and  the  young  wife  and 


404  DISSIPA  TION. 

mother  lay  all  unconscious  of  her  new  relation  and 
responsibilities,  ready  to  pay  the  dearest  price 
for  the  reckless  imprudence  she  had  indulged  in, 
—  even  that  of  her  own  life. 

In  the  confusion  and  terror  consequent  upon 
this  scene,  the  new-born  babe  was  wrapped  in  a 
blanket  and  laid  upon  a  couch,  while  Mrs.  War. 
wick  and  old  Camilla  were  engaged  in  endeavoring 
to  restore  Carolina. 

Ludovico  had  heard  the  cry  of  his  child  with  a 
feeling  wholly  unknown  to  his  breast  before,  and 
he  left  his  watch  by  Carolina's  side  for  a  few 
moments  to  take  it  in  his  arms.  His  impulse  was 
to  carry  it  to  Juanita,  whom  he  now  perceived  was 
not  present.  He  darted  from  the  room  with  it  to 
seek  her  apartment,  which  was  at  some  distance. 
The  door  was  closed,  and  he  knocked,  but  received 
no  answer.  He  opened  it.  It  was  just  at  dawn, 
and  by  the  faint  light  he  saw  that  Juanita  was 
lying  in  the  bed,  with  her  head  partially  covered. 

"  Are  you  ill,  Juanita  ?"  he  said,  stepping  in. 

Juanita  started  on  hearing  his  voice,  and  saw 
him  with  his  infant,  whom  he  placed  by  her  side. 

"Will  you  take  care  of  it  for  me,  Juanita?  I 
fear  its  mother  is  dying." 

She  held  out  her  arms  for  it. 

"  God  bless  you,  Juanita,  and  I  will  take  care  of 
you  both." 

He  stooped  and  kissed  her  forehead,  and  rushed 
from  the  room,  to  find  that  Carolina  had  breathed 
her  last. 


DISSIPA  TION.  4°5 

Ludovico  was  thrown  back  into  his  old  home 
by  the  death  of  Carolina,  and  devoted  himself  to 
his  father  and  to  watching  over  the  motherless 
little  ones  that  surrounded  him.  He  said  little  to 
Juanita,  but  looked  upon  the  miracle  of  her  love 
for  his  child  with  reverence  and  awe.  He  truly 
felt  that  he  had  had  no  wife,  —  that  he  was  the 
victim  of  an  empty  delusion.  There  was  some 
thing  in  the  atmosphere  of  Juanita's  presence  that 
forbade  his  approaching  her  on  terms  of  former 
ease,  but  it  purified  and  ennobled  him  to  witness 
her  devotion  to  her  charge.  She  allowed  no  one 
to  share  the  care.  No  vigils  wearied  her,  but  her 
figure  rounded  into  the  proportions  of  perfect 
health  and  symmetrical  beauty,  and  as  the  time 
approached  when  they  were  to  go  to  Helen,  even 
melodious  song,  such  as  had  been  the  natural  lan 
guage  of  her  childish  days,  was  heard  to  issue 
from  her  lips  when  she  was  conscious  of  no  pres 
ence  but  that  of  the  child.  As  Mrs.  Warwick  ex 
pressed  it,  she  had  "  turned  into  a  mother  ! " 

When  spring  came  and  made  it  possible  to  visit 
northern  shores  with  impunity,  both  father  and 
son,  leaving  their  estates  in  the  care  of  the  good 
and  wise  Don  Andres,  accompanied  the  children 
to  Massachusetts,  where  Helen  had  already  se 
cured  a  house  in  a  rural  village  for  their  recep 
tion.  Her  life  now  had  an  object  worthy  to 
engross  all  her  thoughts.  She  adopted  the  chil 
dren  of  her  friend  in  the  true  spirit  of  a  mother, 


DISSIPA  TION. 

and  felt  that  all  the  experiences  of  her  life  had  but 
fitted  her  for  the  duty.  The  Marquis  and  Ludo- 
vico  passed  a  few  weeks  with  them,  and  then  went 
upon  their  long-anticipated  tour,  which  had  be 
come  a  needed  change  for  the  Marquis. 

When  Ludovico  visited  them  again,  Isabella 
was  three  years  old,  and  as  lovely  a  child  as  the 
eye  could  see.  She  bore  no  resemblance  to  her 
mother,  but  a  very  close  one  to  Ludovico.  He 
did  not  come  unexpectedly,  but  the  occasion  was 
one  of  feverish  anxiety  to  Juanita.  The  Marquis 
had  returned  to  Cuba,  and  wished  Ludovico  to 
join  him  there.  Juanita  feared  he  might  wish 
to  take  the  child,  and  how  could  she  part  with  it  ? 
She  had  been  made  free  by  the  act  of  the  Marquis, 
at  Helen's  earnest  entreaty  ;  but  what  position 
could  she  fill  in  her  former  home  ?  Her  beauty, 
refinement,  and  cultivated  mind  suggested  no 
thought  of  the  bondwoman,  and  Helen  had  put 
her  into  the  position  of  a  relative  of  the  family 
who  had  taken  charge  of  the  orphaned  babe. 

Ludovico's  letters  had  at  first  been  frequent  and 
full  of  fatherly  feeling,  but  Helen  had  begun  to 
wonder  at  his  prolonged  absence,  and  was  much 
relieved  at  last  to  learn  from  him  that  the  travel 
lers  had  visited  the  mother-country,  at  the  sugges 
tion  of  Don  Andres,  where  his  father  thought  it 
possible  the  home  government,  with  which  he  had 
some  relations,  might  be  influenced,  by  one  who 
had  no  selfish  aims,  to  check  the  increasing 


DISSIPA  TION.  4°7 

encroachments  on  Cuban  liberties,  that  had  in 
spired  much  discontent  in  the  inhabitants  who  were 
disposed  to  be  loyal,  but  would  not  bear  oppres 
sion,  and  already  showed  strong  inclination  to  be 
annexed  to  the  United  States.  He  represented  the 
capacities  of  the  island  as  immeasurable,  and  that 
in  fact  but  a  small  part  of  its  resources  had  been 
developed.  But  the  home  government  continued  to 
pile  the  imposts  upon  every  industry  and  interest, 
until  prosperity  was  impossible  in  any  direction. 
When  the  exorbitant  prices  of  the  island  mer 
chants  were  complained  of,  the  answer  was  that 
even  the  slightest  privileges  of  trade  were  so 
heavily  taxed  that  prices  could  not  be  reasonable. 
Hatred  of  the  mother-country  was  increasing 
rapidly.  The  increase  of  commercial  relations 
which  was  marked  at  that  period  brought  no 
fruits  to  Cuba,  and  it  was  desirable  that  the  truth 
should  be  told  by  patriotic  Cubans.  The  Marquis 
returned  disappointed  and  full  of  forebodings.  His 
efforts  proved  to  be  in  vain. 

When  the  South  American  colonies  had  thrown 
off  the  Spanish  yoke  in  1810,  and  asserted  their 
independence,  Cuba  did  not  follow  the  lead,  and 
was  then  designated  by  the  home  government  as 
"  our  ever  faithful  isle  of  Cuba."  But  the  Cuban 
people  were  descendants  of  the  very  Spaniards 
who  tyrannized  over  them,  and  gradually  learned 
to  hate  the  mother-country,  which  showed  such 
rapacious  greed,  and  so  little  sympathy  for  their 
true  interests. 


4-O8  DISSIPA  TION. 

Neither  Ludovico  nor  his  father  had  been  aware 
of  the  changes  that  had  taken  place  in  the  island 
during  their  absence.  Tacon  was  deposed  in 
1838  —  which  was  due  partly  to  the  despotism  he 
showed,  and  partly  because  he  threatened  to  over 
haul  the  slave-trade.  Thousands  of  free  negroes 
were  found  in  the  city  of  Havana.  A  syndic 
there  enabled  them  to  purchase  their  freedom  if 
they  could  hoard  the  means  to  do  it,  which  syndic 
did  not  operate  in  the  rural  districts.  Some  of 
these  free  negroes  are  artisans,  many  are  musi 
cians.  The  public  coachmen,  or  caleseros,  form  a 
strong  body,  and,  in  truth,  life  in  the  island  city 
is  one  long  nightmare  of  terror.  It  is  impossible 
to  give  any  history  here  of  the  effects  of  bad 
legislation,  of  the  cupidity  of  many  of  the  gover 
nors  of  the  island,  of  the  iniquitous  practices  that 
are  constantly  put  in  use  to  conceal  the  land 
ing  and  selling  of  slaves,  which  have  been  illegal 
since  1820.  Large  buildings  may  be  seen,  by 
those  who  know  how  to  seek  for  them,  in  which 
bozals  who  have  been  well  fed,  —  fattened,  one 
may  say,  —  and  cured  of  the  terrible  diseases 
consequent  upon  the  middle  passage,  are  held 
for  sale,  sometimes  openly,  sometimes  covertly 
According  to  the  best  known  -statistics  upon 
the  subject,  the  policy  being  to  work  the  slaves 
to  the  top  of  their  strength  and  import  new 
ones  when  they  are  exhausted,  the  average  life 
of  a  Cuban  slave  is  from  seven  to  eight  years 


DISSIPA  TION.  409 

only.  The  importations  consist,  of  course,  of 
various  tribes,  some  of  which  are  more  easily  sub 
dued  than  others.  Those  who  care  to  look  over 
the  details  of  the  slave-trade,  gleaned  often  from 
the  narrations  of  the  slaves  themselves,  and  often 
from  the  reports  of  the  missionaries,  must  be  aware 
that  many  slaves  are  brought  from  localities  where 
much  domestic  happiness  and  even  worldly  pros 
perity  are  found.  Little  opportunity  is  afforded 
for  any  play  of  natural  character  in  the  life  of  a 
slave,  especially  in  a  country  where  they  are 
worked  as  no  man  works  an  ox  or  a  horse.  But 
when  they  emerge  from  bondage,  if  any  health 
and  strength  are  left  in  them,  native  characteristics 
reappear,  and  great  sagacity  and  thrift  are  often 
seen  in  their  modes  of  life  and  self-maintenance, 
for  they  do  learn  something  from  their  painful 
experiences. 

The  confusion  created  by  a  succession  of  rulers 
each  following  the  policy  his  own  self-interest 
suggests,  gives  rise  to  many  evils  that  are  not 
found  in  United  States  slavery.  Within  a  few 
years,  great  suspicions  had  arisen  in  regard  to 
the  free  negroes.  It  was  supposed  they  were 
forming  a  wide  conspiracy,  and  unusual  cruelties 
had  been  exercised  to  extort  confessions.  By  the 
laws  of  the  island,  any  slave  could  purchase  his 
freedom  for  five  hundred  dollars.  On  the  planta 
tions  every  means  was  resorted  to  to  prevent  the 
accumulation  of  so  much  money,  and  when  it 


4  r  O  DISSIPA  TION. 

was  fairly  in  possession  it  would  often  disappear 
mysteriously,  sometimes  by  the  connivance  of  the 
masters  themselves.  But  in  cities,  where  slaves 
were  hired  out,  it  was  not  so  difficult  for  them  to 
obtain  and  successfully  conceal  money. 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

THE     RETURN. 

LUDOVICO  came  upon  Helen  one  evening  unex 
pectedly.  The  children  were  playing  upon  the 
piazza,  after  a  warm  day :  Luisa  knew  him  at 
once,  and  her  joyful  exclamation  brought  Helen 
to  the  door.  Isabella  was  already  in  her  father's 
arms,  but  a  little  frightened,  and  stretched  out 
hers  to  Helen,  who  took  her  from  him. 

"What  a  lovely  little  being!"  he  exclaimed. 
She  bore  no  resemblance  to  her  mother,  but  a 
marked  one  to  himself.  "  And  is  this  tall  boy 
Manuel  ?  And  my  little  Pepita  grown  up  too ! 
It  seems  as  if  I  were  at  home  again,  indeed.  And 
dear  Mrs.  Warwick !  And  where  is  Juanita  ? " 
he  added,  with  some  difficulty. 

"  I  will  find  her,"  said  Luisa,  springing  into  the 
house  ;  and  she  called,  "Juanita!  Juanita!  Ludovico 
has  come !  "  and  dragged  Juanita  forth,  who  had 
lingered  within  to  compose  herself  for  the  dreaded 
interview. 

"  Are  you  going  to  Cuba,  Ludo  ? "  said  Luisa. 
"Oh,  do  stay  here  with  Aunt  Helen." 

"  I  am  not  going  back  to  Cuba,"  said  Manuel. 
"  I  shall  stay  here  and  go  to  college." 

411 


412  THE   RETURN. 

"Why  did  not  papa  come?"  inquired  Pepita. 
"  Is  not  papa  coming  ?  "  and  her  lip  quivered. 

"Papa  has  gone  to  Cuba,"  said  Ludovico,  "and 
wants  his  daughters  to  come  and  live  with  him 
and  Aunt  Maria." 

"I  do  not  know  Aunt  Maria,"  said  Luisa; 
"papa  must  come  here.  Can't  papa  live  with  us 
here,  Aunt  Helen  ?  " 

"  If  he  would  like  to,  we  should  be  very  glad," 
said  Helen,  "  but  Cuba  is  papa's  home.  I  hoped 
your  father  would  remain  in  France,  at  least, 
where  we  could  have  joined  him,"  she  added, 
addressing  Ludovico. 

"  I  hoped  it,  but  business  called  him  back,  and 
I  fear  I  shall  not  win  him  from  there  again." 

"  Will  Bella  and  Juanita  go  ?  "  said  Pepita.  "  I 
want  to  see  papa,  but  I  wish  he  would  come  here. 
If  I  write  him  a  letter,  will  he  come  ?  Do  you 
want  to  go,  Juanita  ?  I  don't  like  to  see  those 
black  people  ;  do  you?" 

"  I  like  this  better,  dear,"  replied  Juanita. 

"  I  shall  let  my  little  daughter  stay  with  Aunt 
Helen  for  the  present,"  said  Ludovico.  "  We 
will  not  go  yet  ;  perhaps  papa  will  go  back  to 
France,  if  I  urge  him  very  much,  and  then  we  will 
all  go  there." 

"  And  Aunt  Helen  and  Mrs.  Warwick  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed  ;  we  cannot  live  without  them ; 
can  we  ? " 

"Will  you  go,  Aunt  Helen?"  inquired  Pepita. 


THE  RETURN 


"  Perhaps  so,"  said  Helen,  smiling. 

"  Oh,  joyful,  joyful  !  Will  you  write  to  papa 
and  tell  him  so,  Ludo  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  will,  my  little  Pepita.  I  do  not  know 
what  we  should  all  have  done  but  for  Aunt 
Helen.  Miss  Wentworth,  you  must  let  me  call 
you  Aunt  Helen  too.  I  have  not  had  a  home 
feeling  since  I  left  you  till  now.  I  wish  papa  was 
with  us,  indeed." 

And,  saying  this,  he  started  up,  and  walked 
down  the  path  that  led  to  the  garden. 

Helen  withdrew  th@  children,  whose  hour  for 
retiring  had  come,  and  left  Juanita  still  sitting 
upon  the  piazza.  When  Ludovico  returned  from 
his  walk,  he  found  her  still  there. 

"  Juanita,  you  are  free  now.  Does  it  make  you 
happy  ?  " 

"Happy?  Yes  —  no  —  I  do  not  know.  Oh, 
my  God  !  if  I  could  only  die  !  " 

"  No,  you  shall  not  die  !  Live  for  me  —  be  my 
wife  !  I  wish  it,  and  the  world  is  big  enough. 
No  one  need  to  interfere,"  and  he  drew  her  head 
upon  his  breast,  where  she  gradually  sobbed  her 
self  into  calmness. 

"  Go,  now,"  he  said  at  last,  caressing  her  fondly, 
"  and  I  will  tell  Miss  Wentworth."  He  took  the 
sleeping  child  in  his  arms,  and  carried  it  to  her 
door. 

"  Oh,  my  mother,  my  mother  !  Perhaps  she 
will  forgive  me  now  !  " 


THE   RETURN 

Ludovico  excused  himself  for  the  night,  for  he 
did  not  feel  equal  to  the  task  of  imparting  to 
Helen  the  fruits  of  his  long  banishment. 

Long  and  deeply  did  Juanita  commune  with 
herself  as  she  tossed  sleepless  that  night. 

"  Can  I  do  this  thing  ?  "  she  asked  herself.  "  It 
will  ruin  his  earthly  life.  His  father  will  never 
consent  to  it  or  forgive  him.  It  is  enough  for  me 
that  he  wishes  it.  If  I  marry  him,  I  shall  be  a 
dark  cloud  upon  his  life." 

With  this  resolve  she  at  last  slept ;  and,  when 
she  rose  in  the  morning,  her  first  care  was  to  find 
Ludovico,  and  tell  him  her  decision.  He  remon 
strated,  but  she  was  firm. 

There  was  something  in  her  mien  that  awed 
him  into  silence.  She  told  him  she  would  devote 
herself  to  his  child,  and  that  should  be  her  happi 
ness. 

"  You  have  made  me  as  happy  as  I  ever  can  be 
by  wishing  me  to  be  your  wife,  but  do  not  tell 
your  father  even  of  your  wish.  There  would  be 
no  happiness  for  either  of  us  in  marrying.  Nor 
would  your  mother  sanction  our  marriage,  I  am 
very  sure.  I  should  feel  as  if  I  betrayed  her  con 
fidence  in  me,  if  I  should  comply  with  your 
request.  But  I  am  not  afraid  to  return  to  Cuba 
under  your  protection,  though  it  must  be  as  Isa 
bella's  nurse." 

She  did  not  appear  at  the  breakfast  table  that 
morning,  for  she  did  not  know  what  might  have 


THE  RETURN.  4r5 

been  said  to  Miss  Wentworth ;  but  when  the  lat 
ter  at  last  sought  her  in  her  room,  she  found  her 
languid  and  silent,  but  tranquil,  and  was  convinced 
that  the  interview  on  the  piazza  the  evening  be 
fore  had  soothed  the  feverish  agitation  with  which 
she  had  awaited  Ludovico's  coming. 

Juanita's  habitual  life-long  reserve  did  not  yield, 
and  it  was  easier  for  her  to  keep  the  secret  of  her 
happiness  than  would  have  been  possible  to  one 
who  had  not  always  veiled  her  soul  from  human 
eyes.  Indeed,  she  did  not  know  what  to  do  with 
happiness.  The  hopeless  suffering  of  her  life  had 
almost  destroyed  the  capacity  for  enjoyment.  The 
nearest  approach  to  it  had  been  in  the  care  of  Isa 
bella.  She  had  felt  that  here  she  could  in  some 
measure  requite  her  beloved  protectress  for  her 
care  and  culture —  for  she  had  imbibed  her  prin 
ciple  of  disinterested  love,  and  felt  power  to  im 
part  it  again, — and  was  it  not  Ludovico's  child, 
too  ?  She  bore  no  malice  to  its  mother,  for 
malice  was  not  an  ingredient  of  her  nature. 

No  movement  could  be  made  in  regard  to  the 
children  till  letters  should  come  from  the  Mar 
quis.  They  came  in  due  time.  Ludovico  com 
municated  the  intelligence  that  his  father  was 
safe  at  home,  and  the  next  time  he  saw  Helen 
alone  he  said  to  her  :  — 

"  You  will  be  surprised  at  what  I  have  to  tell 
you,  dear  Miss  Wentworth,  but  I  hope  it  will  be  a 
pleasant  surprise.  My  father  begs  me  to  return 


THE  RETURN. 

at  once  with  all  the  family,  for  he  feels  that  his 
own  health  is  failing,  and  he  wishes  to  gather 
them  about  him  again.  I  shall  never  return  to 
Cuba  to  live,  and  I  regret  the  necessity  of  this 
visit,  but  how  can  I  refuse  it  to  a  dying  father?  " 

He  paused  a  moment  before  he  added  :  — 

"  Miss  Wentworth,  I  wish  to  marry  Juanita." 

Helen's  heart  gave  a  bound. 

"  Thank  God,  if  you  can  do.  it !  Have  you  told 
her  so  ?  " 

"  I  have,  and  she  received  it  as  a  pure  woman 
should.  She  has  long  known  of  my  love  for  her ; 
she  knew  it  even  before  she  ought  to  have  done 
so.  She  knew  I  ought  not  to  have  told  her,  but 
she  had  the  moral  strength  to  make  me  feel  it, 
and  I  found  her  unapproachable.  I  am  sure  my 
mother  would  approve  our  marriage,  but  she  does 
not  think  so,  and  is  sure  that  my  father  would 
probably  discard  me.  I  do  not  suppose  he 
would  ever  forgive  me.  I  could  not  marry  her 
there,  for  it  is  against  the  laws  of  the  country ; 
but  even  my  father's  disapproval  would  not  deter 
me  from  doing  it  elsewhere,  if  Juanita  would  con 
sent  to  it.  But  she  refuses  it  decidedly,  and  is 
impervious  to  all  remonstrances.  She  says  she 
will  neither  ruin  my  life,  nor  embitter  the  end  of 
my  father's.  She  is  capable  of  the  highest  action, 
Miss  Wentworth,  and  I  realize  my  inferiority  to 
her.  Do  not  call  my  proposal  to  marry  her  a  sac 
rifice  on  my  part,  for  it  is  not  so.  This  purpose  is 


TflE   RETURN.  417 

all  that  has  kept  me  from  going  mad  since  I  killed 
my  mother.  Ah,  Miss  Wentvvorth,  you  know  it 
was  I  that  killed  her !  Do  you  believe  the  de 
parted  watch  over  us  ?  " 

"I  do,  indeed,"  said  Helen,  speaking  through 
her  tears,  but  they  were  not  tears  of  sorrow- 
"  Your  mother  is  happier  in  heaven  for  all  this 
noble  purpose  in  you,  if  I  know  what  heaven  is." 

"  Oh,  make  me  believe  it,  and  I  can  be  happy 
again." 

"  Your  own  heart  will  assure  you  of  it.  These 
affections  were  not  given  us  to  perish  with  the 
body.  Life  is  but  a  school  in  which  we  learn  our 
selves,  our  powers,  and  our  duties,  and  sometimes 
we  learn  only  through  failures ;  but  I  have  a 
happy  faith  that  we  shall  grow  into  all  that  is 
noble  and  holy  at  last,  and  you  are  on  the  right 
path,  Ludovico.  Juanita  is  in  every  way  worthy 
of  you,  and  you  are  worthy  of  her.  You  have 
conquered  a  prejudice  that  holds  half  the  world 
in  thrall, — -for  the  prejudice  of  caste  is  the  most 
difficult  one  to  overcome.  I  hope  that  even  your 
father  may  see  the  nobleness  of  your  act.  You 
will  go  to  France,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Yes,  as  soon  as  I  can  bring  the  children  back, 
and  if  he  will  join  us.  If  he  will  come  to  me 
there,  we  can  all  be  happy ;  but,  if  not,  we  shall 
all  suffer  to  the  end.  He  thinks  he  shall  not  live 
long ;  he  cannot  lay  down  the  burden  of  grief, 
and  I  fear  that  it  is  wearing  him  away." 


THE  RETURN. 


"  But  you  must  not  expect  Juanita  ever  to  for 
get  the  horrors  of  bondage,  or  to  be  gay  and  light- 
hearted.  Her  happiness  will  be  as  solemn  as  her 
despair  has  been.  I  have  watched  over  her  with 
such  intense  interest  that  I  think  I  know  her 
well.  She  is  a  rare  creature.  Her  devotion  to 
your  child  proves  it,  and  proves  her  love  for  you, 
which  is  not  new  to  me,  for  I  have  always  seen 
that  it  existed." 

"  I  have  often  wondered,"  said  Ludovico,  "  how 
the  slaves  can  have  any  feeling  but  one  of  enmity 
towards  us.  They  are  certainly  a  forgiving  race, 
and  I  do  not  think,  as  many  do,  that  they  are 
wanting  in  manliness  because  they  do  not  strike 
for  their  freedom.  Such  measures  are  taken  to 
subdue  them  that,  in  proportion  to  their  intelli 
gence,  they  give  up  the  endeavor.  They  show 
much  ability  when  they  have  any  opportunity  of 
acting  freely,  as  the  free  negroes  of  the  city 
prove  ;  and,  for  my  part,  I  do  not  like  them  any 
the  less  for  being  false  to  their  masters,  for  it  is 
the  only  way  in  which  they  can  exercise  their  free 
will.  Ah,  it  is  a  sad  subject  !  I  wish  I  could 
forget  it  !  " 

"  It  will  never  be  done  away  with,"  said  Helen, 
"  till  those  who  feel  its  wickedness  dwell  upon  it 
long  enough  to  find  a  remedy  for  it.  I  have  faith, 
not  founded  in  experience  but  in  hope,  that  it  will 
yet  be  abolished  in  my  own  country  ;  not  because 
I  see  any  steps  taken  toward  that  end  by  our  gov- 


THE   RETURN.  4*9 

eminent,  but  because  it  must  fade  before  the 
advancing  light  of  truth." 

"  I  wish  I  knew  what  to  do  for  the  cause  of 
freedom  for  all  men,"  said  Ltidovico,  after  a  pause. 
"  Wherever  I  travel,  I  see  men  free  in  proportion 
to  their  enlightenment,  and  so  I  wish  to  give 
those  in  my  power  the  help  of  supporting  them 
selves,  which  is  the  first  step.  Cuba  is  in  a  sad 
state  of  anarchy,  as  we  see  when  we  look  at  it 
from  abroad,  and  I  wish  it  could  be  annexed  to 
the  United  States,  as  the  first  step  in  reform." 

Little  did  the  friends  then  know  that  the  re 
sponsive  wish  for  annexation,  which  the  States 
had  so  clearly  expressed,  had  far  different  objects 
in  view  in  forming  that  wish.  To  extend  the  area 
of  slavery  was  their  aim  at  that  day. 

The  conversation  flowed  back  into  a  more  per 
sonal  character,  and  ended  with  Ludovico's  saying 
that  he  wished  to  make  his  home  in  Switzerland, 
and  that  the  time  might  come  when  he  could 
overcome  Juanita's  scruples,  but  Helen  could  not 
encourage  him  in  this  hope.  She  felt  satisfied 
that  the  love  which  had  been  Juanita's  religion 
had  purified  her,  that  the  divine  life  had  flowed 
into  her  through  that  sentiment,  untarnished  by 
any  alloy  of  selfishness,  but  that  she  loved  Ludo- 
vico  too  well  to  marry  him. 

"  What  shall  I  do  without  my  darling  little 
family  ?  "  she  said  ;  "  I  could  hardly  love  children 
of  my  own  more." 


420  THE   RETURA?. 

"  Do  not  speak  of  separating  yourself  from  us, 
dear  Miss  Wentworth.  I  cannot  ask  you  to  go  to 
Cuba  with  the  little  girls,  but  I  shall  hope  to  per 
suade  my  father  to  go  to  France,  and  then  we 
can  all  be  together.  I  do  not  think  America 
would  be  congenial  for  him.  Ke  is  as  earnest  as  I 
am  that  you  should  have  the  care  of  the  children's 
education.  Does  any  one  here  know  that  Juanita 
was  a  slave  ?  " 

"  No  one  has  ever  suspected  it.  I  have  always 
given  her  your  family  name,  and  left  it  to  be  in 
ferred  that  she  is  a  Spanish  relative.  I  do  not 
think  the  children  ever  thought  of  her  as  a  slave, 
or  as  one  of  the  '  black  people '  of  whom  they 
often  speak.  If  Manuel  regards  her  as  such,  he 
has  never  intimated  it  to  me." 

"  The  little  girls  wrote  you  that  I  had  opened  a 
small  family  school  for  their  benefit,  as  there  is 
no  good  school  in  this  village,  and  companionship 
adds  so  much  to  the  pleasure  of  study.  Since 
that  time  I  have  taken  Juanita  as  my  assistant  in 
drawing,  and  paid  her  a  salary,  which  gives  her  a 
feeling  of  independence  and  a  realizing  sense  of 
her  freedom,  which  nothing  else  could  give.  She 
refused  all  compensation  at  first,  but  I  was  imper 
ative  upon  that  point. 

"  Such  has  been  her  success  in  the  school  that 
she  has  been  importuned  to  take  outside  pupils. 
I  have  always  adorned  my  home  with  her  beau 
tiful  works,  so  that  they  have  spoken  for  them 
selves. 


THE  RETURN.  421 

"  I  told  her  that  if  anything  happened  to  me  now 
she  could  feel  that  she  stood  on  her  own  feet,  as  I 
do  myself.  Next  to  being  a  slave  it  is  humiliating 
to  be  a  pauper. 

"  Dear  Aunt  Helen  !  I  too  inherit  a  degree  of 
mathematical  talent  that  will  at  any  time  give  me 
an  independent  position  if  other  resources  fail." 
And  Ludovico  laughed  with  a  feeling  of  pleasure 
that  quite  surprised  himself.  "I  might  be  your 
mathematical  professor,  perhaps." 

"When  I  was  a  child  I  was  always  amusing  my 
self  with  inventing  mathematical  games,  which 
dear  mama  would  play  with  me,  and  I  once  taught 
her  algebra,  of  which  she  proved  quite  an  apt 
scholar.  "  I  suppose  she  too  inherited  the  talent 
from  my  grandfather." 

"  I  am  so  much  of  a  New  Englander,"  said 
Helen,  "as  to  think  it  is  better  to  inherit  talents 
than  fortunes.  I  wish  Manuel  was  your  mathe 
matical  pupil,  for  he  finds  it  difficult  to  excel  in  that 
direction." 

"  No,  Manuel  is  a  dreamer,  and  will  always  be 
one,"  said  Ludovico.  "  Let  him  follow  his  bent. 
That  is  the  only  way  to  excel  in  anything.  I  re 
member  how  you  were  Pallas-Minerva  to  him  after 
you  read  them  the  Iliad,  and  you  will  always  fill 
that  place  to  him." 

"  He  is  very  happy  here  among  the  boys,"  said 
Miss  Wentworth,  "and  I  never  can  rejoice  enough 
that  he  is  no  longer  in  Cuba.  The  fact  of  slavery 


THE  RETURN. 


and  its  attendant  horrors  spoiled  the  universe  to 
him.  With  that  blot  upon  it,  it  was  not  God's 
world.  I  hope  Cuba  will  in  future  be  more  of  a 
dream  than  a  reality  to  him." 

To  return  to  his  desolate  home  under  these  cir 
cumstances,  was  no  panacea  for  the  Marquis'  fail 
ing  health.  The  next  letters  Ludovico  received 
were  from  Don  Andres,  informing  him  that  his 
father  was  failing  rapidly,  and  begging  him,  in  his 
name,  to  come  home,  and  bring  all  the  children. 
It  would  only  be  a  visit,  for  the  most  skilful  phy 
sicians  had  assured  him  that  his  father's  days  were 
numbered.  He  also  wrote  that  old  Camilla  had 
died  just  before  his  father's  return. 

No  time  was  to  be  lost,  and  preparations  were 
hurried  through  to  comply  with  the  request.  Lu 
dovico  left  it  optional  with  Juanita  to  accompany 
them  or  to  remain  with  Helen  till  his  return,  but 
Juanita:  chose  to  go. 

Nothing  that  proved  Juanita's  nobility  of  char 
acter  could  surprise  Helen,  as  she  freely  told  her  ; 
but  when  Juanita  said  that  to  marry  her  would  be 
Ludovico's  ruin  with  his  father  and  his  Cuban 
friends,  she  saw  that  it  was  so  indeed. 

Juanita  chose  to  go  back,  with  the  clear  under 
standing  that  in  so  doing  she  resumed  the  subor 
dinate  position  of  a  servant  for  the  time. 

"  She  is  as  wise  as  she  is  good  !  "  was  Mrs.  War 
wick's  comment  when  Helen  told  her  of  Juanita's 
decision. 


CHAPTER   XXXII. 

CUBA. 

LUDOVICO  and  his  little  family  were  hospitably 
entertained  on  their  arrival  at  the  house  of  a 
friend,  as  was  the  usual  custom  in  Cuba  at  that 
time,  hotels  being  unknown,  unless  certain  board 
ing-houses  where  foreigners  were  received  for  a 
few  days  on  their  transit  to  the  interior  could  be 
so  called.  Ludovico  lost  not  an  hour,  but  hast 
ened  home  the  very  night  of  his  arrival,  hoping 
to  have  one  more  glimpse  of  his  father,  who  was 
said  to  be  dying.  Mrs.  Warwick,  Juanita,  and  the 
children  were  to  go  on  as  soon  as  he  could  send  a 
trusty  escort,  or  return  for  them  himself. 

In  the  evening,  Juanita  was  called  down  to  the 
door.  Some  one  wished  to  see  her.  For  a 
moment  she  hesitated,  for  the  sights  and  sounds 
of  the  city  terrified  her ;  but  it  might  be  Juan. 
Who  else  could  it  be  ? 

The  house  in  which  they  were  staying  was,  like 
many  genteel  residences,  a  suite  of  apartments  in 
the  second  story,  the  lower  story  being  occupied 
as  warehouses.  Lofty  flights  of  steps  led  up  to 
the  apartments  above.  Juanita  descended,  alone 
423 


424  CUBA. 

and  cautiously,  and  when  she  reached  the  lower 
step  she  was  seized  in  an  eager  embrace. 

It  was  indeed  Juan.  He  told  her  he  was  free, 
and  that  he  had  seen  her  land  that  morning.  She 
told  him  she  too  was  free,  and  had  just  returned 
from  the  United  States,  but  only  for  a  time,  and 
was  just  about  to  urge  him  to  leave  Cuba  also, 
when  they  were  both  seized,  gagged,  and  borne 
away. 

Juan  had  been  dogged.  He  had  long  been 
watched  for  a  suspicious  character,  being  sus 
pected  of  taking  part  in  the  supposed  conspiracy. 
His  remarkable  figure,  noble  bearing,  and  daunt 
less  air  had  long  marked  him  for  destruction,  and 
he  knew  it.  By  day  he  had  carefully  disguised 
himself  of  late,  but  the  temptation  to  see  and 
speak  to  Juanita  had  overcome  his  prudence,  and 
he  had  ventured  out  without  that  precaution, 
under  the  protection  of  the  shades  of  evening. 

They  were  conveyed  to  a  remote  quarter,  and 
placed  with  a  crowd  of  other  suspected  ones  in  a 
large  building  outside  the  walls. 

When  Juanita  opened  her  eyes, — for  she  had 
fainted  with  pain  and  terror  on  the  way,  —  "  Pope 
Urban  "  was  standing  over  her.  He  looked  wan 
and  wasted,  and  soon  cut  off  all  hopes  of  escape. 
The  city  was  in  a  fearful  tumult  of  rage  and  sus 
picion,  and  even  the  rural  districts  had  been 
searched  for  victims.  His  endeavors  to  run  off 
Pedro  from  the  mountain  sitio  where  Don  Ermite 


CUBA.  425 

had  sent  him  had  ended  in  the  arrest  of  both. 
Dolores  was  still  in  the  mountains,  he  knew  not 
where. 

It  proved  the  night  of  a  fearful  outrage  that 
rang  widely  over  the  island  the  next  day.  There 
is  no  trial  in  Cuba,  any  more  than  in  the  southern 
United  States,  for  a  suspected  slave,  nor  even  for 
a  suspected  colored  freeman.  The  building  was 
surrounded  by  an  infuriated  crowd,  and  fired,  and 
Juanita,  Juan,  Urbano,  and  twelve  hundred  other 
negroes,  free  and  enslaved,  perished  in  the  flames. 

Are  we  told  that  the  horrors  of  slavery  are 
exaggerated  ?  Those  who  know  its  history  know 
that  to  be  impossible.  This  holocaust  is  a  matter 
of  history,  and  included  many  individuals  of  a 
superior  caste,  for  it  was  the  more  intelligent  and 
able  negroes  who  were  most  readily  suspected. 
Besides  the  suspected  freemen,  many  valuable 
slaves  of  well  known  and  powerful  families  disap 
peared  that  night,  and  no  one  dared  to  inquire  of 
their  fate. 

When  Juanita  failed  to  return,  Mrs.  Warwick 
became  anxious,  and  inquiries  were  instituted. 
The  first  suspicion  in  the  family  was  that  she  had 
fled  ;  but  Mrs.  Warwick  knew  the  fallacy  of  that 
suspicion.  The  store-keeper  at  the  foot  of  the 
steps  could  only  testify  that  the  police  had  arrested 
and  bound  a  man  and  woman  who  stood  there. 
He  had  seen  this  through  a  crack  in  his  shutter, 
but  in  Cuba  no  one  gives  an  alarm  when  an  out- 


426    .  CUBA. 

rage  is  perpetrated.  Every  one  shuts  his  own 
door,  and  pleads  ignorance.  No  one  would  have 
dared  at  that  time  to  investigate  the  mysterious 
disappearance  even  of  a  white  man,  and  the  Cata- 
lonian,  who  had  revealed  these  facts,  must  have 
been  newly  arrived,  or  he  would  not  have  ventured 
to  tell  so  much.  The  inquiry  was  immediately 
hushed,  both  for  his  sake  and  that  of  the  other 
residents.  Mrs.  Warwick  passed  the  night  in 
agony,  but  could  not  speak  again  of  her  distress 
till  she  should  see  Ludovico. 

The  conflagration  outside  the  walls  that  night 
was  nothing  to  the  authorities  within  the  gates 
but  a  confirmation  of  their  suspicions,  except  to 
those  who  might  have  lost  slaves,  for  whom  they 
never  dared  even  to  inquire.  Horror  secretly 
filled  every  heart  when  rumor  brought  the  intelli 
gence  the  next  day  of  the  human  sacrifice  ;  but, 
again,  they  were  negroes,  and  it  was  thought 
probable  they  had  deserved  it.  It  was  not  till 
long  after,  and  till  similar  if  not  worse  cruel 
ties  had  been  perpetrated  on  hundreds,  nay,  thou 
sands  of  helpless  beings,  that  a  reaction  of  the 
public  mind  came ;  and  then  it  was  said  that  suffi 
cient  proof  of  the  supposed  conspiracy  had  never 
been  afforded  to  warrant  them  ! 

But  enough  !  Those,  who  wish  to  know  more 
can  seek  the  information  where  it  is  to  be  found, 
duly  accredited. 

Ludovico,  who  arrived  too  late  to  find  his  father 


CUBA.  427 

living,  remained  on  the  plantation  only  long 
enough  to  bring  the  bodies  of  his  parents  to  the 
family  tomb  in  Havana.  His  first  care,  on  hear 
ing  of  the  horrible  tragedy  of  the  conflagration, 
was  to  put  Mrs.  Warwick  and  the  children  on 
board  a  vessel  for  the  United  States,  and  send 
them  away  under  safe  escort.  On  his  way  home 
he  had  heard  of  the  arrest  of  Urbano  and  Pedro 
in  the  mountains,  and  that  they  had  been  sent  to 
Havana  with  other  captured  fugitives.  When 
he  was  on  his  way  back,  he  heard  of  the  confla 
gration,  and  was  convinced  by  Mrs.  Warwick's 
story  that  it  was  Juan  who  had  called  down 
Juanita,  and  that  he  was  the  distinguished  leader 
who  had  perished  then.  But  he  found  it  useless 
to  make  any  investigations.  Stunned  and  baffled, 
he  mechanically  followed  the  pageant  of  his 
parents'  funeral,  for  the  Marquis  of  Rodriguez  was 
widely  connected  with  the  nobility  of  the  island. 

Ludovico  returned  to  La  Consolacion,  where 
alone  he  could  find  any  sympathetic  care.  His 
haggard  appearance  alarmed  Don  Andres,  who 
knew  how  to  sustain  as  well  as  sympathize,  and 
that  beneficent  action  was  the  best  restorative  for 
a  broken  life.  Ludovico  was  young  ;  he  wasgejier- 
ous  ;  he  had  sisters  and  a  brother  and  a  child  of 
his  own,  and  these  relations  involved  duties  :  and 
duty  leads  the  soul  into  a  higher  world  even  than 
the  natural  affections,  and  into  an  immortal  life, 
where  the  still  wider  relation  with  the  human  race 


428  CUBA. 

lifts  us  above  the  sphere  of  this  world's  happiness. 
Gradually  the  truth  dawned  upon  him  that  man's 
extremity  is  God's  opportunity,  and  that  all  he 
had  known  and  suffered  from  slavery  fitted  him 
to  do  his  part  to  ameliorate,  perhaps  to  help  to 
abolish,  it.  Gladly  would  he  have  turned  his 
back  upon  the  island ;  but  this  he  felt  that  he 
had  no  right  to  do.  Don  Andres  had  wrought 
beneficent  changes  in  substituting  his  grand, 
melodious  voice  for  the  overseer's  whip,  and 
Ludovico  could  see  in  the  faces  of  the  people 
that  something  better  and  higher  than  fear  and 
trickery  had  taken  possession  of  them.  Don 
Andres  had  promoted  Pancho  —  the  best  coffee- 
planter  in  the  gang  —  to  superintend  that  work, 
while  he  gave  some  attention  to  the  sugar  estate, 
and  had  rewarded  him  by  giving  him  a  small 
interest  in  the  crop.  This  had  transformed  him 
into  a  man,  apparently,  and  Ludovico  resolved 
to  act  upon  Helen's  idea  of  creating  self-respect 
by  independence,  and  gradually  he  threw  himself 
into  the  work  with  his  native  ardor  and  energy. 
Don  Andres  assured  him  that  the  time  was 
approaching  when  great  changes  would  take 
place,  and,  inspired  with  the  feeling  that  he 
could  do  something  to  elevate  character  among 
them,  he  turned  away  from  personal  sorrows,  and 
gave  himself  up  to  the  reforms  he  saw  possible. 

How  difficult  it  was  to  do  this,  only  those  can 
estimate  who  realize  the  pang  the  thought  gave 


CUBA.  429 

him  that  he  had  disappointed  his  mother,  and  the 
consolation  he  hoped  to  feel  from  requiting  by 
tardy  happiness  the  years  of  suffering  he  had 
unwittingly  caused  Juanita,  whose  noble  character 
had  at  last  made  itself  manifest  to  him.  But  in 
Don  Andres  he  had  an  adequate  friend,  who  had 
read  the  whole  by  the  touchstone  of  his  own  pri 
vate  sorrows  and  disappointments,  and  together 
they  were  a  host.  But  the  reforms  they  could 
effect  were  limited,  because  no  one  was  free,  and 
the  espionage  was  such  that  even  the  wealthiest 
planters  could  not  do  as  they  pleased  while  the 
home  government  connived  at  iniquity.  He  could 
free  a  slave  if  he  chose  to  keep  him  on  his  estate 
and  maintain  him,  but  he  could  not  sell  him  with 
out  a  license.  If  he  gave  him  an  interest  in  the 
estate,  it  must  be  solely  at  his  own  expense.  This 
he  was  prepared  to  accept.  He  could  make  less 
sugar  if  he  chose,  but  he  must  be  the  loser,  for 
he  would  be  taxed  according  to  the  number  of  his 
slaves  and  his  acres.  He  found,  however,  that 
the  amount  and  quality  of  work  done  by  men  who 
felt  themselves  men  and  not  beasts  was  of  a 
superior  order,  and  balanced  the  loss. 

Sugar  could  be  made  better  or  worse  by  care  or 
carelessness,  and  the  manuring  of  the  coffee  estate 
by  the  debris  of  the  coffee-plant  so  far  in 
creased  the  value  of  that  product  that  it  was 
sought  and  sold  at  its  own  gates. 

The    children's  voices    were    no    longer    heard 


43°  CUBA. 

driving  the  oxen  ;  the  mills  Ludovico  introduced 
so  far  mitigated  the  labors  of  the  sugar  season, 
which  must  be  nearly  unremitting  or  the  sugar 
would  be  spoiled,  that  it  was  unnecessary  to  per 
form  night  labor,  as  is  usual  on  sugar  estates,  so 
that  the  people  were  not  overworked,  and,  when 
the  sugar  season  was  over,  lighter  labor  was  given, 
and  the  rest  of  the  year  was  even  easier  than  on 
the  coffee  plantations.  Good  cane-feeding,  added 
to  other  food,  made  fat  instead  of  gaunt  workmen, 
such  as  Larimon  had  exhibited,  and  cheerfulness 
and  alacrity  took  the  place  of  languor  and  idleness. 
It  soon  came  to  be  understood  that  skilled  labor 
was  remunerative,  for  whoever  proved  himself 
capable  was  paid  something.  The  improved  man 
liness  of  the  people  was  Ludovico's  reward.  He 
replaced  the  frail  bamboo  barracks,  which  a  con 
flagration  sometimes  swept  away  in  a  night,  by 
separate  houses,  furnished  with  comfortable  bunks, 
and  surrounded  by  small  gardens,  and  promoted 
the  institution  of  marriage,  to  which  he  gave  the 
character  of  a  festival,  which  revived  the  traditions 
of  their  native  land,  hitherto  celebrated  in  their 
wild  dances  only.  The  wedding-cake  made  of 
tropical  fruits,  and  not  of  butterflies,  gave  a  sanc 
tion  and  dignity  to  the  daily  life  which  had  hitherto 
been  wanting.  Ever  so  small  a  home  is  sacred 
ground. 

Muerta-Viva     had    been     promoted     by    Don 
Andres  to  take  Camilla's  place  in  the  household, 


CUBA,  43 l 

being  always  a  cripple  and  unfit  for  hard  labor, 
but  having  learned  the  arts  of  housekeeping  by 
her  frequent  assistance  of  Camilla.  She  was  now 
told  that  she  would  be  paid  a  small  stipend  for  her 
services  and  for  her  nice  pastry  work  and  the 
candying  of  fruits,  in  which  she  excelled  ;  and 
Ludovico  encouraged  her  to  be  thrifty  of  the 
money  which  might  buy  her  freedom  at  a  future 
time,  for  he  now  constituted  himself  his  people's 
banker,  and  showed  them  the  books  in  which 
he  recorded  their  \vork.  Solidad  excelled  in 
in  sewing,  and  the  prospect  was  held  out  to  her 
that  she  should  have  the  charge  of  the  annual 
sewing,  if  she  showed  herself  capable  of  manag 
ing  the  women,  which  she  did  very  soon,  under 
Don  Andres'  auspices.  Don  Andres  was  endowed 
with  a  grand  voice,  sweet  as  well  as  sonorous,  and 
it  was  music  to  Ludovico's  ears  to  hear  him  give 
his  orders,  which  were  not  only  promptly  obeyed, 
but,  when  possible,  anticipated  — for  he  had  gained 
the  people's  confidence.  Old  Panchita  was  gone, 
but  Pazienza,  the  good  god-mother,  was  installed 
over  the  children  in  a  comfortable  chicken-house, 
with  a  lignum-vitae  floor,  which  insects  do  not 
infest,  and  stalwart  maidens  assisted  her  in  the 
care  of  the  little  ones.  No  overseer's  lash  had  to 
be  invoked,  for  Pazienza  made  them  love  her,  and 
she  trained  them  to  weed  the  borders  and  take 
care  of  their  mothers'  gardens.  The  caleseros, 
who  had  been  inhumanly  punished  for  careless- 


432  CUBA. 

ness  in  their  department,  were  made  responsible 
for  the  horses.  As  fast  as  they  proved  themselves 
worthy,  Ludovico  offered  his  slaves  their  freedom, 
but  they  did  not  wish  to  leave  his  paternal  care, 
even  when  the  day  came  for  insurrectionary  move 
ments.  There  were  none  such  on  Ludovico's 
estate,  but  he  could  carry  his  reforms  no  farther 
without  subjecting  himself  to  interference  by  the 
local  government,  which  became  more  and  more 
rapacious  and  oppressive,  till  every  interest  of  the 
island  was  curtailed,  and  the  imposts  made  so 
burdensome  that  discontent  increased  rapidly,  and 
fresh  forces  were  sent  from  the  mother-country  to 
meet  increasing  rebellion.  The  world  knows  the 
general  features  of  the  revolution  that  became  the 
only  means  of  redress.  It  is  vain  to  try  to  de 
scribe  it.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  in  1888  slavery  will 
end  in  Cuba,  according  to  the  present  arrange 
ments  ;  but  what  the  actual  condition  of  things 
will  be,  who  will  venture  to  say  ?  Not  more 
devotedly  did  Cespedes,  Varona,  and  other  patriots 
lay  down  their  lives  for  their  beloved  island  later 
in  time  than  did  Ludovico  and  Don  Andres  at 
that  remote  period  give  theirs  to  prepare  the  way 
for  changes,  which  were  not  consummated  till  long 
after  their  day  and  generation.  Ludovico  at  last 
joined  his  family,  and  took  them  to  Switzerland  to 
finish  their  education,  leaving  his  estates  for  future 
disposal  in  the  hands  of  Don  Andres,  with  such 
improvements  as  they  had  been  able  to  effect. 


CUBA.  433 

He  had  kept  Helen  informed  of  these  improve 
ments,  and  she  had  cheered  him  on  till  she  felt 
that  he  was  losing  family  life  too  long,  and  she 
then  urged  him  to  return  to  it,  and  give  it  the 
happiness  so  long  withheld. 

Carlito,  who  returned  to  his  parents  after  the 
death  of  the  Marchioness,  was  never  forgotten  by 
Helen  or  Ludovico,  and  the  time  came  when  Dona 
Lucia  and  Tulita,  their  respective  husbands  being 
dead,  accompanied  him  to  the  States  to  finish 
his  education,  and  finally  followed  to  Switzerland. 
Carlito's  only  idea  of  happiness  was  associated 
with  the  Rodriguez  family,  and  his  childish  love 
for  Pepita  ripened  at  last  into  an  enduring  affec 
tion. 

It  may  be  said  that  a  tale  of  fiction  should  be  a 
perfect  artistic  work,  an  epitome  of  all  life  that 
can  be  covered  by  its  events,  and  that  poetic 
justice  should  be  done  to  all  the  characters  who 
play  their  part  in  it,  because  God  is  just,  and  in 
the  great  whole  of  existence  virtue  brings  happi 
ness  and  vice  misery.  This  may  be  true  in  de 
picting  any  state  of  society  in  which  all  the  actors 
enjoy  the  inalienable  right  of  ownership  in  them 
selves,  but  when  that  first  essential  condition  of 
life  and  growth  is  ravished  from  man,  the  forces 
of  nature  cannot  play  freely,  and  the  reward  of 
virtue  must  be  not  only  postponed  to  another  state 
of  existence,  which  must  follow  this  as  inevitably 
as  thought  follows  thought,  but  the  expectation 


434  CUBA. 

that  all  things  shall  be  adjusted  in  this  life  must 
give  way  to  the  sad  earthly  fact  that  justice  is  not 
always  meted  out  here.  Let  us  keep  our  faith 
unsullied,  that  God  teaches  man  by  his  failures  as 
well  as  by  success  and  happiness,  and  that,  with 
his  due  endeavors,  he  can  effect  that  better 
adjustment  of  the  spirit  to  the  event  which  se 
cures  the  best  ends  of  existence  here  and  here 
after. 


EXPLANATORY    NOTE, 


BY   ELIZABETH   P.  PEABODY. 


IT  was  one  of  the  last  acts  of  Mrs.  Mann's 
mortal  life  to  put  into  the  hands  of  the  publisher 
the  foregoing  tale,  and  she  intended  to  write  a 
preface,  indicating  what  was  the  "  romance  "  and 
what  was  the  "  real  life  " ;  but  the  manuscript  was 
temporarily  mislaid,  and  her  death  prevented  the 
preface  from  being  written. 

I  think  she  intended  to  say  that  the  bulk  of  the 
book  was  written  without  any  conscious  moral 
object  in  view,  or  for  the  public  ;  but,  as  she  used 
to  say,  it  wrote  itself,  being  a  transcript  of  what 
was  present  to  her  observation,  as  a  relief 'to  her 
soul,  in  letters  home,  while  she  was  living  in  Cuba, 
in  a  position  not  unlike  that  in  which  she  has 
represented  Helen. 

Many  friends  who  read  the  original  letters  at 
the  time  they  were  written,  urged  her,  on  her 
return  to  New  England,  to  print  them,  for  the 
subject  of  slavery  was  just  then  beginning  to  be 
agitated  by  Garnsoil  But  while  any  member  of 
435 


436  EXPLANATORY  XOTE. 

the  family  in  whose  bosom  she  had  received  hos 
pitality  yet  lived,  she  doubted  the  propriety  of 
doing  so. 

Not  one  of  that  family  is  portrayed  in  the  book, 
for  the  Marquis  and  Marchioness  Rodriguez,  Caro 
lina,  Luclovico,  Dona  Lucia,  Tulita,  and  Carlito 
are  creatures  entirely  of  her  imagination,  and 
their  story  her  Romance.  Every  other  personage 
named,  whether  white  or  black,  was  real,  and  also 
every  incident  and  scene  described  —  even  Juanita, 
though  licr  story  is  idealized.  And  the  action  of 
Ludovico,  at  the  end,  which  lights  up  the  tragedy 
with  a  moral  glory,  is  copied  from  actual  life. 

The  death  of  the  last  member  of  the  family  of 
her  host,  a  few  years  since,  left  her  free  to  publish 
what  she  had  seen  and  known  of  real  life  in  Cuba, 
woven  into  a  work  of  art  of  her  own  imagining. 
She  thought  it  would  be  felt  to  be  a  timely  publi 
cation,  coming  out  so  hard  upon  the  time  of  the 
emancipation  of  the  slaves  of  Cuba,  in  1888. 


THE    SCHOOL    OF    HOME. 

Let  the  school  of  home  be  a  good  one.  Let  reading  be 
such  as  to  quicken  the  mind  for  better  reading  still ;  for 
the  school  at  home  is  progressive. 


The  baby  is  to  be  read  to.  What  shall  mother  and 
sister  and  father  and  brother  read  to  the  baby? 

BABYLAND.  Babyland  rhymes  and  jingles;  great  big 
letters  and  little  thoughts  and  words  out  of  BABYLAND. 
Pictures  so  easy  to  understand  that  baby  quickly  learns 
the  meaning  of  light  and  shade,  of  distance,  of  tree,  of 
cloud.  The  grass  is  green  ;  the  sky  is  blue  ;  the  flowers 
—  are  they  red  or  yellow  ?  That  depends  on  mother's 
house-plants.  Baby  sees  in  the  picture  what  she  sees  in 
the  home  and  out  of  the  window. 

BABYLAND,  mother's  monthly  picture-and-jingle  primer 
for  baby's  diversion,  and  baby's  mother-help  ;  50  cents 
a  year. 


What,  when  baby  begins  to  read  for  herself  ?  OUR 
LITTLE  MEN  AND  WOMEN  is  made  to  go  on  with.  BABY- 
LAND  forms  the  rending  habit.  Think  of  a  baby  with  the 
reading  habit !  After  a  little  she  picks  up  the  letters 
and  wants  to  know  what  they  mean.  The  jingles  are 
jingles  still ;  but  the  tales  that  lie  under  the  jingles 
begin  to  ask  questions. 

What  do  Jack  and  Jill  go  up  the  hill  after  water  for  ? 
Isn't  water  down  hill  ?  Baby  is  outgrowing  BABYLAND. 

No  more  nonsense.  There  is  fun  enough  in  sense. 
The  world  is  full  of  interesting  things  ;  and,  if  they  come 
to  a  growing  child  not  in  discouraging  tangles  but  an 
easy  one  at  a  time,  there  is  fun  enough  in  getting  hold 


of  them.     That  is  the  way  to  gro\v.     OUR  LITTLE  MEN 
AND  WOMEN  helps  such  growth  as  that.     Beginnings   of 
things  made  easy  by  words  and  pictures ;  not  too  easy. 
The  reading  habit  has  got  to  another  stage. 
A  dollar  for  such  a  school  as  that  for  a  year. 


Then  comes  THE  PANSY  with  stories  of  child-life,  travel 
at  home  and  abroad,  adventure,  history  old  and  new,  re 
ligion  at  home  and  over  the  seas,  and  roundabout  tales 
on  the  International  Sunday  School  Lesson. 

Pansy  the  editor ;  THE  PANSY  the  magazine.  There 
are  thousands  and  thousands  of  children  and  children  of 
larger  growth  all  over  the  country  who  know  about  Pansy 
the  writer,  and  THE  PANSY  the  magazine.  There  are 
thousands  and  thousands  more  who  will  be  glad  to  know. 

A  dollar  a  vear  for  THE  PANSY. 


The  reading  habit  is  now  pretty  well  established ;  not 
only  the  reading  habit,  but  liking  for  useful  reading :  and 
useful  reading  leads  to  learning. 

Now  comes  WIDE  AWAKE,  vigorous,  hearty,  not  to  say 
heavy.  No,  it  isn't  heavy,  though  full  as  it  can  be  of 
practical  help  along  the  road  to  sober  manhood  and  wom 
anhood.  Full  as  it  can  be  !  There  is  need  of  play  as 
well  as  of  work  ;  and  WIDE  AWAKE  has  its  mixture  of 
work  and  rest  and  play.  The  work  is  all  toward  self- 
improvement;  so  is  the  rest;  and  so  is  the  play.  $2.40 
a  year. 


Specimen    copies    of    all    the    Lothrop    magazines    for 
fifteen    cents ;     any    one    for   five  —  in    postage    stamps. 
Address  D.  Lothrop  Company,  Boston. 


You  little  know  what  help  there  is  in  books  for  the 
average  housewife. 

Take  Domestic  Problems,  for  instance,  beginning  with 
this  hard  question  :  "  How  may  a  woman  enjoy  the  de 
lights  of  culture  and  at  the  same  time  fulfil  her  duties  to 
family  and  household  ?  "  The  second  chapter  quotes  from 
somebody  else  :  "  It  can't  be  done.  I've  tried  it :  but,  as 
things  now  are,  it  can't  be  done." 

Mrs.  Diaz  looks  below  the  surface.  Want  ot  prepara 
tion  and  culture,  she  says,  is  at  the  bottom  of  a  woman's 
failure,  just  as  it  is  of  a  man's. 

The  proper  training  of  children,  for  instance,  can't  be 
done  without  some  comprehension  of  children  themselves, 
of  what  they  ought  to  grow  to,  their  stages,  the  means  of 
their  guidance,  the  laws  of  their  health,  and  manners. 
But  mothers  get  no  hint  of  most  of  these  things  until  they 
have  to  blunder  through  them.  Why  not  ?  Isn't  the 
training  of  children  woman's  mission  ?  Yes,  in  print,  but 
not  in  practice.  What  is  her  mission  in  practice?  Cook 
ing  and  sewing  ! 

O  O 

Woman's  worst  failure  then  is  due  to  the  stupid  blunder 
of  putting  comparatively  trivial  things  before  the  most  im 
portant  of  all.  The  result  is  bad  children  and  waste  of  a 
generation  or  two  —  all  for  putting  cooking  and  sewing 
before  the  training  of  children. 

Now  will  any  one  venture  to  say  that  any  particular 
mother,  you  for  instance,  has  got  to  put  cooking  and  sew 
ing  before  the  training  of  children  ? 

Any  mother  who  really  makes  up  her  mind  to  put  her 
children  first  can  find  out  how  to  grow  tolerable  children 
at  least.  iii 


And  that  is  what  Mrs.  Diaz  means  by  preparation — a 
little  knowledge  beforehand  —  the  little  that  leads  to  more. 

It  can  be  done  ;  and  you  can  do  it !  Will  you  ?  It's  a 
matter  of  choice  ;  and  you  are  the  chooser. 

Domestic  Problems.     By  Mrs.  A.  M.  Diaz.     ?i.     D.   Lothrop  Company,  Boston. 

We  have  touched  on  only  one  subject.  The  author 
treats  of  many. 


Dr.  Buckley  the  brilliant  and  versatile  editor  of  the 
Christian  Advocate  says  in  the  preface  of  his  book  on 
northern  Europe  "  I  hope  to  impart  to  such  as  have  never 
seen  those  countries  as  clear  a  view  as  can  be  obtained 
from  reading "  and  "  My  chief  reason  for  traveling  in 
Russia  was  to  study  Nihilism  and  kindred  subjects." 

This  affords  the  best  clue  to  his  book  to  those  who 
know  the  writer's  quickness,  freshness,  independence, 
force,  and  penetration. 

The  Midnight  Sun,  the  Tsar  and  the  Nihilist.  Adventures  and  Observations  in 
Norway,  Sweden  and  Russia.  By  J.  M.  Buckley,  LL.  D.  72  illustrations,  376 
pages.  ?3.  D.  Lothrop  Company,  Boston. 

Just  short  of  the  luxurious  in  paper,  pictures  and  print. 


The  writer  best  equipped  for  such  a  task  has  put  into 
one  illustrated  book  a  brief  account  of  every  American 
voyage  for  polar  exploration,  including  one  to  the  south 
almost  forgotten. 

American  Explorations  in  the  Ice  Zones.  By  Professor  J.  E.  Nourse,  U.  S.  N. 
10  maps,  lao  illustrations,  624  pages.  Cloth,  £3,  gilt  edges  $3.50,  half-calf  $6. 
D.  Lothrop  Company,  Boston. 

Not  written  especially  for  boys  ;  but  they  claim  it. 


The  wife  of  a  U.  S.  lighthouse  inspector,  Mary  Brad 
ford  Crowninshield,  writes  the  story  of  a  tour  of  inspection 
along  the  coast  of  Maine  with  two  boys  on  board  —  for 
other  boys  of  course.  A  most  instructive  as  well  as  de 
lightful  excursion. 

The  boys  go  up  the  towers  and  study  the  lamps  and 
lanterns  and  all  the  devices  by  which  a  light  in  the  night 
is  made  to  tell  the  wary  sailor  the  coast  he  is  on  ;  and  so 
does  the  reader.  Stories  of  wrecks  and  rescues  beguile 
the  waiting  times.  There  are  no  waiting  times  in  the 
story. 

All   Among  the    Lighthouse.-;,   or    Cruise   of    the  Goldenrod.      By  Mary  Bradford 
Crowninshield.     32  illustrations,  392  pages.     #2.50.     D.  Lothrop  Company,  Boston. 

There's  a  vast  amount  of  coast-lore  besides. 


Mr.  Grant  Allen,  who  knows  almost  as  much  as  anybody, 
has  been  making  a  book  of  twenty-eight  separate  parts, 
and  says  of  it  :  "  These  little  essays  are  mostly  endeavors 
to  put  some  of  the  latest  results  of  science  in  simple, 
clear  and  intelligible  language." 

Now  that  is  exactly  what  nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine 
in  a  thousand  of  us  want,  if  it  isn't  dry.  And  it  isn't  dry. 
Few  of  those  who  have  the  wonderful  knowledge  of  what 
is  going  on  in  the  learned  world  have  the  gift  of  popular 
explanation  —  the  gift  of  telling  of  it.  Mr.  Allen  has 
that  gift ;  the  knowledge,  the  teaching  grace,  the  popular 
faculty. 

Common  Sense  Science.     By  Grant  Allen.     318  pages.     $1.50.     D.  Lothrop  Com 
pany,  Boston. 

By  no  means  a  list  of  new-found  facts ;  but  the  bearings 
of  them  on  common  subjects. 


We  don't  go  on  talking  as  if  the  earth  were  the  centre 
of  things,  as  if  Galileo  never  lived.  Huxley  and  Spencer 
have  got  to  be  heard.  Shall  \ve  wait  two  hundred  and 
fifty  years  ? 

The  book  is  simply  an  easy  means  of  intelligence. 


There  is  nothing  more  dreary  than  chemistry  taught  as 
it  used  to  be  taught  to  beginners.  There  is  nothing 
brighter  and  fuller  of  keen  delight  than  chemistry  taught 
as  it  can  be  taught  to  little  children  even. 

Real  Fairy  Folks.     By  Lucy  Rider  Meyer,    V   M.     ^9  pages.     $1.25.      D.   Lo 
throp  Company,  Boston. 

"I'll  be  their  teacher — give  them  private  scientific 
lectures !  Trust  me  to  manage  the  school  part !  "  The 
book  is  alive  with  the  secrets  of  things. 


It  takes  a  learned  man  to  write  an  easy  book  on  almost 
any  subject. 

Arthur  Oilman,  of  the  College  for  Women,  at  Cam 
bridge,  known  as  the  "Harvard  Annex,"  has  made  a  little 
book  to  help  young  people  along  in  the  use  of  the  dic 
tionary.  One  can  devour  it  in  an  hour  or  two;  but  the 
reading  multiplies  knowledge  and  means  of  knowledge. 

Short  Stories  from  the  Dictionary.     By  Arthur  Oilman,   M.   A.      129  pages.     60 
cents.     D.  Lothrop  Company,  Boston. 

An  unconscious  beginning  of  what  may  grow  to  be 
philology,  if  one's  faculty  lies  that  way.  Such  bits  of 
education  are  of  vastly  more  importance  than  most  of 
us  know.  They  are  the  seeds  of  learning. 


Elizabeth  P.  Peabody  at  the  age  of  eighty-four  years 
has  made  a  book  of  a  number  of  essays,  written  during 
fifty  years  of  a  most  productive  life,  on  subjects  of  lasting 
interest,  published  forgotten  years  ago  in  Emerson's  Mag 
azine,  The  Dial,  Lowell's  Pioneer,  etc.  ^ 

Last    Evening  with   Allston  and  Other  Papers,  350  pages.     $1.50.     D.  Lothrop 
Company,  Boston. 


The  wife  of  Fremont,  the  Pathfinder  of  forty  years 
ago  and  almost  President  thirty  years  ago,  has  written  a 
bookful  of  reminiscences. 

Souvenirs  of  My  Time.     By  Jessie  Benton  Fremont.     393  pages.     Si. 50.     D.  Lo 
throp  Company,  Boston. 

Mrs.  Fre'mont  has  long  been  known  as  a  brilliant  con- 
verser  and  story-teller.  Her  later  years  have  been  given 
to  making  books;  and  the  books  have  the  freshness  and 
sparkle  of  youth. 


The  literary  editor  of  the  Nation  gathers  together  nearly 
a  hundred  poems  and  parts  of  poems  to  read  to  children 
going  to  sleep. 

Bedside  Poetry,  a.  Parents'  Assistant  in  Moral  Discipline.     143  pages.     Two  bind 
ings,  75  cents  and  $i.     D.  Lothrop  Company,  Boston. 

The  poems  have  their  various  bearings  on  morals  and 
graces ;  and  there  is  an  index  called  a  key  to  the  mor 
alities.  The  mother  can  turn,  with  little  search,  to  verses 
that  put  in  a  pleasant  light  the  thoughts  the  little  one 
needs  to  harbor.  Hence  the  sub-title. 


Readers  of  poetry  are  almost  as  scarce  as  poetry  — 
Have  you  noticed  how  little  there  is  in  the  world  ?  how 
wide  the  desert,  how  few  the  little  oases? 

Through  the  Year  with  the  Poets.  Edited  by  Oscar  Fay  Adams.  12  bijou 
books  of  the  months,  of  about  130  pages  each.  75  cents  each.  D.  Lothrop  Com 
pany,  Boston.  f» 

Is  it  possible  ?  Is  there  enough  sweet  singing  ringing 
lustrous  verse  between  heaven  and  earth  to  make  twelve 
such  books?  There  is  indeed;  and  heaven  and  earth  are 
in  it ! 


Ginx's  Baby,  a  burlesque  book  of  most  serious  purpose, 
made  a  stir  in  England  some  years  ago  ;  and,  what  is  of 
more  account,  went  far  to  accomplish  the  author's  object. 

Evolution  of  Dodd.     By  William   Hiwley  Smith.     153  pages.     $i.     D.  Lothrop 
Company,  Boston. 

Dodd  is  the  terrible  schoolboy.  How  he  became  so  ; 
who  is  responsible  ;  what  is  the  remedy  —  such  is  the  gist 
of  the  book. 

As  bright  as  Ginx's  Baby.  A  bookful  of  managing 
wisdom  for  parents  as  well  as  teachers. 


Questions  such  as  practical  boys  and  girls  are  asking 
their  mothers  all  the  year  round  about  things  that  come 
up.  Not  one  in  ten  of  the  mothers  can  answer  one  in  ten 
of  the  questions. 

Household  Notes  and  Queries,  A  Family  Reference-Book.     By  the  Wise  Blackbird. 
115  pages.     60  cents. 

It  is  handy  to  have  such  a  book  on  the  shelf,  and 
handier  yet  to  have  the  knowledge  that's  in  it  in  one's 
head. 


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